


The Grim

by Lyoko_Native



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Angst, Artistic License - Biology, Bedsharing, Blood and Gore, Depressed Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gothic, Half Demon Adrien Agreste, Human/Monster Society, Illustrations, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Magic, Necromancer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, No Miraculouses, References to Depression, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Touch Starved Adrien Agreste, Violence, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyoko_Native/pseuds/Lyoko_Native
Summary: Magic comes to Marinette as naturally as breathing, but her great uncle refuses to let her practice it, believing that magic is responsible for the death of her family. In a fit of mournful frustration, she refuses to partake in the tradition of sending letters to her dead parents. Unknowingly, her refusal to charm the letters allows a villain to claim their letters, and discover their location.Uncle Wang tells her the truth about her family, but is then forced to send her away for her own protection. Marinette must protect herself from the villain who wants to steal her unique hereditary gift: the power to raise the dead. Now, forced to flee from the only home she's ever known, Marinette finds herself woefully unprepared for the challenges that lie ahead. Despite fearing for her life, she can't seem to shake a single question from her mind:Is her mother really dead?





	1. Marked for Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goth is cool, fantasy is cool. presenting: goth fantasy. this story is 100% for the drama and aesthetic. anyway:
> 
> How To Talk To Your Child About Death

The cast iron cauldron bubbled over the hearth, though it was almost drowned out by the choir singing from the phonograph. Marinette sat on a stool, crushing the reagents in her mortar with her pestle. Purple loosestrife, nettles, holly berries, imp’s blood and live ants were ground together, the mixture dark red and clumped. She scraped the mixture into a mason jar and pulled the cauldron off the hook in the hearth. Marinette carefully poured the boiling springwater into the jar, ignoring how the steam made her face hot.

Marinette poured the rest of the water out the window. She quickly shoved the cauldron under the sink, listening to the pots and pans crashing inside once she closed the door. Marinette looked at the mixture suspended in springwater, and she shook it forcefully. It started to glow pink as her magic infected the water, turning reagents with minimal magical value into an insomnia draught.

As she infused the potion with her magic, her arm started to hurt. Her face twisted, and she sighed heavily. Marinette put the jar on the counter and unraveled the bandages on her wrist. Underneath there was a mark shaped like a skull, and surrounding it were the Hidden Language characters «没有魔法». While she didn’t know what they meant, the characters repeated in two rows, which became black as the pain grew sharp. The skull was red, burning like hellfire.

The pain started to fade. It acted up every time she tried to use her magic. She’d been told that it was a recessive genetic condition which made magic painful to use. Not _impossible,_ just painful. Marinette wrapped her arm and tried to ignoring the lingering agony.

As her thoughts started to wander, she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Marinette flinched and clutched the mason jar close to her chest. She looked around for a place to hide her creation. She panicked, shoved it into the icebox behind the milk, and then sprinted for the couch. Marinette slid onto it, messing up the cushions. She barely had enough time to fix them and pick up her sewing before the door opened.

Her great uncle, Wang Cheng, entered the room. He was tall and wide man, his gentle aura and soft expression betraying his soft-spoken and pleasant nature. He wore his formal clothing, which consisted of a leather vest with silver buckles and belts over a changshan-style shirt. The shirt was made of deep red brocade, catching the light from the hearth and shimmering. His black pants tucked into tall silk boots. Like always, he was followed by two winged, unblinking eyeballs.

Uncle Wang stared at her for a moment. Marinette grinned, stood, and folded her hands behind her back. “You have not changed?” He asked. Marinette looked at her outfit. She was still in her work dress, which was simple and plain black, and her stockings, which were thick and grey with fishnets woven into them.

It took her a moment to process his statement. Then, her face flushed. “Oh! The photograph. I’m sorry, Uncle, it completely slipped my mind.” She excused herself to run up the steps. She slipped at the top, sending a nervous grin at her uncle to reassure him that she was fine. Marinette opened the heavy, ornate black door at the top of the stairs and ducked inside.

She quickly pulled off her dress and threw it lazily onto the bed, though it caught on the intricate iron bed frame. The fitted sheet was bright red, and it was covered in black blankets. It might have been summer, but even the summers in the Hinterlands were cold, as the sun never shined. Besides, she thought as she opened the doors to her wardrobe, aesthetics were important.

Marinette dug through her closet. She’d been working for eight months on an outfit for this photograph after seeing how the previous one had looked. Marinette grabbed a dress bag and unzipped it to look at her creation.

She let the bag fall to hold the dress in front of her in the full length mirror. Marinette smoothed the midi-length pleated skirt. It was black and velvety so it caught what little light came from the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. The shirt was deep red, almost like blood. It was designed like a qipao. The frog buttons were silver, the red was brighter on the collar and the hems of the tight long sleeves.

Marinette hurriedly changed. She tucked the shirt into the skirt and tied the laces of her leather bodice belt. Marinette ran to her closet and pulled out a pair of pointed leather boots. She pushed her feet into them, zipped up the sides, and then fastened the buckles.

She walked over to her mirror and dug through her makeup bag. Marinette powdered her face and dusted her cheeks with pearly pink blush. She put on dark grey and dusty rose eyeshadow, and then painted her lips bright red. She was fixing her face when a knock came to the door. “I’m almost ready, Uncle. I’ll be right there.”

There was a moment of silence. “Netta, may I come in?” His voice said, almost inaudible behind the heavy door.

She sighed. “Yes.” She said. She turned to face Uncle Wang as her door opened. He seemed troubled, but he always did this time of year. Marinette smiled and stood. “I worked for months on this. How do I look?”

“As lovely as the night, little ladybug.” Uncle Wang said. Marinette grinned and looked back at her reflection. She untied the long red ribbons in her hair and started to brush the knots out. “Marinette…” Uncle Wang said quietly as he revealed her insomnia draught, “…I found your potion in the icebox.”

Marinette grimaced. She dropped her brush and spun around. “Uncle, you don’t understand! There’s a watchman who has recently been assigned long shifts and he’s having trouble staying awake! He was half dead at the restaurant earlier, and I just thought that—”

Uncle Wang walked away from her. “Marinette, you know how I feel about magic.” He said. While _he_ wasn’t looking at her, the two winged eyeballs _were,_ judgemental. They were technically magic, but Uncle Wang made a distinction between enchantmenting, sorcery, and witchcraft. Superficially this seemed hypocritical, but enchanted objects like his winged eyeballs didn’t require the exertion of innate magical ability like witchcraft and sorcery did.

She folded her hands in her lap and frowned. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

“I feel like we have this conversation constantly.” He said, walking over to the window. He opened it to pour the potion out.

She clawed at her skirt, her nails scratching the skin even through the thick velvet. “I really am sorry, Uncle…” Marinette said, unable to look at him.

He put the now empty jar on the windowsill. “Your mother was a gifted sorceress, your father a skilled witch… and this destroyed them.” He said, as he _had_ said, for years and years. “And when you use your magic, you truly are hurting yourself.” He motioned to her wrist, which she in turn pulled close to her chest. “I just want you to be safe, xiao Netta.”

She felt her face twist. Magic came naturally to her, even through agony. It was as simple as breathing. Not being allowed to use it was like fumbling blindly in the dark, like hearing an ancient melody but not being able to reply in turn. It felt like hope… met with nothing. But she glanced at Uncle Wang. He looked at her with kind, dark brown eyes. Good and honest, like the earth after a rainstorm. Her safety was his paramount concern. “I understand, Uncle.” She made no promise to stop, as it would only be a lie.

Uncle Wang opened her jewelry box. He removed a golden locket. He opened the clasp and hung it around her neck. “You are good. And there are forces in this world that will find good and burn it to a crisp.” She made fierce eye contact with herself in the mirror so she wouldn’t look at him. “Good is done better in the dark.”

She didn’t reply.

“I will meet you downstairs.” Uncle Wang said. He turned and left her to finish brushing her hair.

She pulled it back with the long red ribbons, watching as they waved gently in the breeze. Marinette stood and walked over to her window. She leaned out and looked over the small town of Nidesouris. Cobblestone roads were lined by Tudor-style buildings. There was always a thick layer of fog, and the only thing that pierced it was the bell tower on the other side of town. Marinette leaned against the windowsill and sighed.

She opened the locket Uncle Wang had put on her. Inside were ivory profiles of her parents. They weren’t detailed, but it was everything she had of them.

Her eyes wandered from the locket to the bandages on her wrist. She undid them to look at the mark. It was hard to see among the markings, but there were scars there. Every time Uncle Wang brought this up, Marinette _hated_ how she was so drawn to magic. He didn’t mean to make her upset, obviously, but there were times she wanted that mark to be gone… even if it meant bleeding it out.

She sighed. Marinette reluctantly pulled herself inside and closed the window, fixing the bindings as she moved.

She left her bedroom and joined her uncle in the sitting room. He was setting up the ‘le Phoebus’ camera. Marinette grabbed the sewing she’d been pretending to do earlier, and she sat down on the couch. Her hair ribbons touched the cushions, so it took a bit of time to get them to sit in a way she thought was elegant.

When Uncle Wang had finished setting up the camera, he sat down beside her. The eyeballs took their positions next to him. They both stared at the camera while the enchanted gears whirred to life. They remained expressionless as the camera flashed twice.

The enchantment allowed for the photograph to print right away. Uncle Wang kept the first, larger image with him, which he would keep in a rosewood frame. The second, smaller image was placed inside an envelope. He smiled at her. “Well, xiao Netta, let’s go to the center of town.”

Marinette stood, grabbed her purse from the coat hanger, and followed Uncle Wang out of the house-restaurant combination. She listened to him mumble as he walked, rubbing the mark on her wrist. Uncle Wang still sometimes spoke in the Hidden Language. He and her mother had both hailed from the Hidden Republic in the Ecliptic Sovereignties. Her father had come from Stregoneria, though he had met her mother in Fémurre, which were both countries in the Hinterlands.

“Marinette.”

She was pulled out of her reverie, and she looked up at Uncle Wang. They had been walking for several minutes, and she hadn’t noticed that they’d reached their destination. They were in the very center of town, just beneath the town statue. It depicted rats eating one another. Many lay dead, half devoured, and in the center was a green fire, ominously lighting the park. The statue was called ‘ _la symphonie de la mort, et les souris dans le feu,_ ’ or more simply, la Symphonie.

Uncle Wang smiled at her. He showed her the envelope which contained the photograph, as well as a second envelope containing a latter he had written. “Do you have your letter?”

Marinette reached into her purse. She held the letter in both hands, nervous, as though this scrap of parchment was worth more than the innocent, childish ramblings scribbled hastily inside. It was addressed to her parents. They all were. She looked up and nodded.

Uncle Wang placed both envelopes in her hands, and then folded one of her hands over top of it. “Now, xiao Netta, close your eyes and wish that these make it to your parents, safe, so they know you are safe.”

She took the letters. Uncle Wang had her do this every two years. She would wish that they would find her parents, and then Uncle Wang would transform them into orioles. It was a ritual unique to them, a way for her to feel close to her family, even though they were gone. It used to be fun, or at the very least exciting. Like they were spies, sneaking behind a villain’s back. But this year, as Marinette’s grip grew tight on the envelopes, as her mark started burning for no reason, it didn’t feel like that. It felt pointless and cruel. She shoved the envelopes back to Uncle Wang. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Marinette, what are you—” Uncle Wang began.

“Why do you do this to me?!” She shouted. Her voice carried, catching the attention of those walking nearby. “You’re always saying how magic destroyed maman and papa! Yet, every year, you drag me out here and make me send off these letters!” She took a step back. “It’s cruel! This is cruel! Why fill my heart with hope, only to throw it into the fire?”

Uncle Wang put the letters on the base of the statue. “Marinette, please calm down.” He took her shoulders. “It is not my intention to cause you distress. Your father believed that the dead still watch over us. I want you to believe that they’re close to you. Protecting you.”

Marinette folded her arms across her chest. “I know, Uncle, but…” She shook her head. “But my parents are dead. No amount of wishing is going to bring them back.” She frowned at him. “And I don’t see how what I believe matters.”

She walked away, rubbing her arms sadly. Uncle Wang watched her go, thought of his long lost niece, and then transformed the letters into birds. They flew away, and he watched as they soared up over the ornate iron fence, into the eternal night.

 

* * *

 

The paper orioles raced one another. The Hinterlands were largely flat but surrounded by tall cliffs and mountains, with nearly dead grass lining dirt roads and raging rivers. The orioles stood out, white against the night sky, but it didn’t matter to them. They dove to fly closer to the ground. They were picking up speed, and things were looking—

Blood red energy came from nowhere, destroying two of the three paper orioles. The third was spared, mostly, but its wing was badly damaged, and it could no longer fly. All three began to fall, hitting the earth like crumpled up newspaper.

The third paper oriole tried to crawl away from its dead sisters. All it had to do was make it to the underbrush, and it would be safe from its attacker. Sadly, it had no such luck, as a woman caught up to it and crushed its head beneath her heel.

She sat down on her heels to look at the damaged letters. The first was so badly burned and bloody from the magic blast that it couldn’t be read. The second was a photograph, but one half had been burned, so only a man could be seen. The third was damaged in places, but she could still read it. She skimmed it, and then folded it over neatly.

“It would seem that the postal service has failed Lord Cheng.” She said. “Perhaps I should return this to him.”

 

* * *

 

Marinette opened the door to her bedroom. Uncle Wang was reading on the couch. His shift at the restaurant hadn’t yet started. She frowned sadly, and she walked towards him with her hands folded in front of her. “Uncle…” She said quietly. She startled him into looking up. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you last night. My reaction was thoughtless, and childish. You deserved better.”

Uncle Wang shook his head, and he moved so she could sit next to him. “No, Marinette. Don’t apologize.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “It was sweet when you were a child, but you’re older now, and I shouldn’t treat you like one.”

She looked away from him. “Still, it was immature to run away!”

“You may not be a child, but you aren’t grown, either. Immaturity is expected, and forgiven.” He smiled at her, his eyes warm and soft. Marinette hesitated, but she smiled back. Uncle Wang didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he did, it came with a sly smile. “Happy birthday.”

She blinked. “Oh, Corpus Christi!” She exclaimed suddenly. “I completely forgot it was my birthday!” She giggled madly.

“I have to work tonight, but we can do something later. How about I make some of my world famous Marinette Soup?” He suggested. She grinned and nodded. Uncle Wang paused again before he added, “Marinette, I’ve been thinking about… your interests, and I…” Wang paused. She seemed confused. He took her hand and squeezed it. “Wait here.”

“Okay,” She said, though when he turned and left the room, she realized that she still couldn’t shake her melancholy.

She stood and walked over to the window, leaning out. She watched the people go by. They always seemed a bit fatigued, but that was common. Morning never came in the Hinterlands. Nidesouris was near the border of the Ecliptic Sovereignties, and thus also close to the Summerlands, so time was marked by the color of the sky.

As she watched, a single woman stood out. Marinette leaned further out the window to look more closely. Her hair was black, streaked with red, and her face was stern.

Marinette had never seen this woman. “Tā shì shénme, xiao Netta?” Uncle Wang asked as he walked into the room.

She didn’t understand that, but knew from context that he probably meant to ask what she was staring at. “There’s a woman in the park. She’s odd.” She reported as she turned. “I’ve never seen her before. Definitely not one of the miners…”

Uncle Wang walked over to her. She pointed the woman out to him. There was a moment where neither moved, and they just stared at the woman. She looked around for a bit before revealing a wand made of glass. Lightning swirled around it, and she pointed it at a group of people. Lightning struck them, filling Nidesouris with the smell of burnt flesh and ozone.

“Come out, Cheng!” The woman shouted, though her voice was hardly audible as the people screamed and fled. She killed the watchmen who tried to stop her with blasts of blood red energy.

“Corpus Christi! What villainy is this?!” Marinette exclaimed.

Uncle Wang sprinted for Marinette’s bedroom. She looked from her frantic uncle to the open window, closed it, and then followed him up, not wanting this dangerous villain to see her.

Uncle Wang was tearing her room apart, throwing things onto her bed. “Uncle! What do you think you’re doing?!” She shouted, grabbing some of the clothes that had hit the ground. He ignored her. “Stop it! Stop!”

“There’s no time, xiao Netta. You need to go, _now._ ” Uncle Wang said firmly.

Marinette was in shock, but he kept emptying her closet. “ _What?!_ Go? Go _where?!_ ” She demanded answers. When he still wouldn’t give them, Marinette slammed the wardrobe shut. “ _Uncle!_ ”

Uncle Wang hesitated. He looked at her with sad eyes. “It's time to tell you the truth.”

He helped Marinette sit in the chair next to her mirror. He could tell by her shocked expression that she needed a moment to process that she’d been lied to, so he started to fold the clothes he’d yanked from the wardrobe.

“Many years ago, there was a war. You would have learned about it in your schooling—the War on Autumn. The countries of the Hinter and Summerlands each fought to steal the wealth and ancient treasures of the other side, burning and freezing the entire continent. It was a terrible, wicked war, xiao Netta, like they all are.

“But your mother, she was young, and with youth comes naïveté… she joined the army of the Fémurrian king.” Uncle Wang called forth one of his flying eyeballs. It turned up and started projecting an image of a woman. It was a featureless image that looked like it was made of fairy dust, but Marinette knew that it was meant to represent her mother. She reached out for it, fingers faltering. “Our family begged her not to go, but she wanted to fight. She was given a weapon and martial training, and she fought to make the world better. But as she fought, she didn’t feel the world improve—she felt it grow more cruel. An endless cycle of revenge.

“Eventually, the war ended. Your mother came home, the same person, but different. She found the rule of the old king chafing, and she led rebellion against him, five thousand strong.” Uncle Wang smiled proudly. “Your mother toppled _monarchies._ That was the world you were born into, the _woman_ you were born to.”

“Maman was the leader of an army?” Marinette asked.

Uncle Wang nodded. “But one day, your mother was traveling with one of her trusted advisors. And it c… it came to pass that your mother had to use her magic. And, like all of the women in our family, your mother has… she had… black magic. Her advisor, her… her _friend,_ he saw the kind of power that she had, and in his lust for power, he tried to steal it from her.”

“But black magic can be learned. Why would he try to steal it when he could learn it himself?” She asked.

“Because your mother’s dark magic is _unique,_ Marinette. The black magic runs strong in the women of our family.” He explained. “My brother’s wife, your mother, and you… you all have a unique gift.” He was quiet for a moment. “The power to raise the dead.”

She couldn’t reply. “That’s impossible! No one can truly _raise the dead!_ ” She argued. “Seances, sure, and ghosts—but necromancy is _impossible!_ ”

He took her hand, and he slowly started unwrapping her wrist. “It is a closely guarded secret. If people knew that our family could raise the dead…” His voice trailed off. He looked at the mark and frowned. “When your parents left you in my care, they did so because this man is as ruthless as he is dangerous.” He covered the mark with his hand. “She sealed your magic so it would not grow so powerful as to attract his attention.”

“Y-you said it was a genetic condition!”

Uncle Wang frowned at her. “Marinette, surely you wondered why a genetic condition was written in the Hidden Language!”

The color ran from her face. She looked away as he sighed. “I suppose I thought it was a curse.” She muttered.

He closed his eyes. Uncle Wang waved his hand over the mark, which became cold. Marinette’s teeth started chattering as it turned to ice. The mark then melted, ice water forming on her skin and dripping onto the floor. The second the skull faded away, magic raced through Marinette’s blood. Black and red energy shone through her skin, turning the blood veins in her once bound arm black as night.

She recoiled, pulling her arms into her chest. The magic… after years of being repressed, it chilled her bones worse than anything. Her teeth started chattering more.

He finished folding her clothes. He carried her suitcase downstairs, throwing it onto the couch. He grabbed a key from a drawer, unlocked a hidden door, and removed a broomstick. “This belonged to your father. It will carry you out of town.” Uncle Wang slid the handle of the broomstick through the handle on the suitcase. He handed it to her, ran into his bedroom, and returned a few moments later with a palace lantern. It glowed an eerie color, a bit more ominous and green than teal. He balanced it on the hook at the end of the broom. “Wait until I’ve distracted her, and then fly away, xiao Netta. I’ll hold her off as long as I can.”

Marinette shook her head. “But, Uncle Wang, I don’t want to leave you!”

“If you stay, you’ll die. And I cannot raise you.” He explained. Uncle Wang put on a set of claw rings, elegantly designed and carved in silver. He felt the magic running through his veins grow sharper and more focused, which was a nice change from the near fourteen years of disuse.

Marinette felt tears collect in her eyes. “You’re going to fight her.” She whispered. He paused before looking at her and nodding. There was something… somber in his eyes that sent a shiver up her spine. The tears started rolling down her cheeks. “You’re going to die.” She shook her head. “No! I can’t let you fight her knowing that you’re going to die!”

“Rather me than you. I was sworn to protect you.”

Without uttering another word, Uncle Wang led Marinette down the stairs and bid her to stay inside while he confronted the woman. The people of Nidesouris had finally caught wind of what was going on, and they crowded the gate in an attempt to flee. This only made it easier for the woman to cast her spell again. Upon its release, the lightning branched off and electrocuted nearly every single person trying to escape, their charred bodies falling where they stood.

He covered his nose, mostly out of shock but also to block the smell. Uncle Wang walked out of the house, planting his feet between the woman and the gate. “…Nathalie!” He hissed.

The woman, Nathalie, didn’t react to him. She tapped her foot, tall black boots with silver heels clicking against pavement. Her leather pants caught the light. Her bodice was made of deep red velvet and lined by black lace more delicate than her face suggested she would have liked. Her shirt was as white as bone, the long sleeves tucked into red gloves and the collar coming up around her face in vampire style.

But her clothing wasn’t her most striking feature, nor was her dyed hair or emotionless blue eyes hidden behind stylish spectacles. No, it was the hole in her shirt, right over her heart. It looked like it was ripped and poorly stitched back, but this time to her skin. The bloodstain was darkest around the edges, but it dripped down almost to the bodice. Behind the rip was a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been hidden, and sewn behind prison-like stitches was a Polyphemus moth. It fluttered against the stitches, as if desperately trying to escape.

Uncle Wang recoiled. What had she _done_ to herself?! “You’re—you’re Heartless!”

“We meet again, Cheng Shifu.” She said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“You might wish to see an oculist.” He joked.

Nathalie chucked bitterly. Then, she frowned. “Where’s your niece?”

“She died, a long time ago. Your master will just have to go without.” He said. Uncle Wang clawed up his fist, and when he opened it, a yellow glyph spun over his hand. He created three more of these glyphs, which summoned three spectral monkeys to his side.

Nathalie reached into her bodice and revealed a piece of paper. “You’ve gotten careless. I’ve read the letter you sent.” Marinette realized in this moment why her mark had hurt when they sent the letter—she had been enchanting it so it reached its destination safely! Her tantrum had prevented this spell from being completed. Nathalie waved her wand. Lightning followed it where it went, and it summoned bats. They circled her like an aura. “If you will not confess, I will bring you to your knees!”

She launched her lightning spell at him. Uncle Wang dodged it, and in the same motion bid his monkeys to charge her. The screeched as they ran forward. Nathalie barely had time to dispel them before dodging a blast of golden energy.

Marinette watched the epic magic duel with fear in her eyes. Her body begged her to run, but her eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the fight. She clutched the broomstick to her chest, and with a heavy heart, she ran from the house. Marinette sprinted for the gate, climbing on top of the broom.

She only flew for a few meters before losing her concentration. She fell, lading amongst the corpse. She was frozen with fear, realizing she was face to face with the dead faces of people she’d known her entire life. Marinette couldn’t breathe, and she struggled to grab hold of the broom. She stood and raced out of town, not bothering to climb back onto the broom.

She was too afraid to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i added a picture which i drew and you can see more art for this au on my tumblr, orville-redenbacher-space-hero.tumblr.com
> 
> i might draw and add more photographs from time to time (i tend to add to much detail in my writing and i like to give people a reference)


	2. Witch’s House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plan To Be More Positive Off To Shitty Fucking Start
> 
> tw: self harm in this chapter

Her feet stumbled when they touched solid ground. Marinette’s legs gave out from under her as she ran, so she tripped and skinned her knee. It didn’t stop her, though, and she kept running. She ran until she could no longer hear the magic duel, which echoed across the plains. She ran until the road signs no longer included Nidesouris, a place barely worth mentioning if one wasn’t close. She ran until the trees grew closer together, not quite a forest but as close as it came to one in the Hinterlands.

It was here that Marinette could run no more. She fell, her things and the broom sprawling out in front of her. She skinned her other knee, as well as the palms of her hands.

She stayed in this position for a long time, on her hands and knees, looking at the road. She dug her nails into the dirt, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. Marinette raised her hands and covered her mouth. She closed her eyes and started crying.

Everything had happened so fast. She had learned the truth about her family in the same breath as losing the person who had cared for her since she was a baby. And, with the bind gone and Nidesouris compromised, there was likely nowhere safe for her to go.

She forced herself to stand. She looked at the woods which surrounded her, and she noticed a street sign through the gloom. Marinette walked over to it, limping slightly. She squinted to read the weather-worn signs.

**Châtdurat**  
au nord, vingt kilomètres et demi  
**Veràsoie**  
à l'est, six kilomètres  
**Mouerrise**  
à l'ouest, soixante-quinze kilomètres

She frowned deeply as she tried to consider her next move. Geography had never really been her strong suit. It seemed pointless, as Uncle Wang had not only insisted they never travel, but hadn’t even taught her the Hidden Language. It made sense in _hindsight,_ of course, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

If she went west towards Mouerrise, she’d be on the coast. Marinette had never seen the ocean. The thought of the sea spray on her face, fresh seafood, world travelers… it was tempting to a fourteen-year-old girl. It might be a practical choice, too, she reasoned. She could hire a ship to take her… somewhere. She frowned. Where, she had no idea. Besides, seventy-five kilometers was a long way to travel, even by broom.

If she went east towards Veràsoie, she’d get closer and closer to the Ecliptic Sovereignties. They were notoriously secretive, so much so that even their most famous country was known by an alias. Besides, that was her mother’s homeland. However, Veràsoie was located in the middle of a frozen bog, and the road was dangerous.

If she went north towards Châtdurat, she’d be heading closer to the Summerlands. Magic lingered there from the war, so it would likely be easier to disguise her unique magical signature. This would be useful, as she would have to learn how to use and control it soon, or it would consume her. But, the further north she went, the more likely it was that she would run into enemies. There was still plenty of bad blood between the Summer and Hinterlands, and the Ecliptic Sovereignties couldn’t prevent all the fighting.

She considered this for a very long time. Even though Veràsoie was closest, Châtdurat was famous for its spellbooks. She’d need one if she was going to master her magic before it destroyed her.

Marinette leaned forward on the broom. It wasn’t so difficult to fly the thing, only to keep one’s balance. She was too nervous to fly quickly or too far off the ground, though, so she was only moving a little bit faster than she would be if she were walking. It was better this way, however, since she couldn’t get the image of the dead out of her mind.

The only thing that pulled her from her reverie was the rain. It came suddenly and out of nowhere. The rain was heavy and dense, like it was trying to put out a fire. It scared her into losing her grip on the handle and falling off the broom.

She futilely wiped water from her face. “Fine! I’m fine! Corpus Christi, I’m fine!” She stammered. There was, of course, no one to reply. She looked around, feeling her heart grow heavy, like it was wrapped in iron weights. With a heavy sigh, Marinette gathered her things and started running up the trail, splashing mud onto her boots and stockings. She slid a few times, so after a few minutes, Marinette was soaked to the bone with cold water and mud.

It was so dark, and the rain so hard, that she didn’t notice an ornate iron fence along the route at first. She slid again, only to catch herself on the bars.

She grinned madly. “There’s a fence here! There might be a house nearby!” She whispered. Marinette blindly felt her way forward, using the fence as a guide. Soon she found a gate, and she shielded her eyes so she could try to see if there was shelter down the path. Up ahead was a massive brick house, the curtains drawn and no light coming from within. The path was lined by dark, leafless trees, their dead branches reaching up for the sky like zombies from their graves.

She rushed for the door. Even being under the heavy cloth awning was better than being in the rain, and she appreciated the relief. Marinette pounded on the door.

The door was heavy and solid. A golden handle was the only thing that marked it, not even a simple knocker. Marinette pounded the door for about a minute before taking a sharp breath and grabbing the handle. The door stuck fast, but it opened with little additional trouble.

Just beyond the heavy door was a vestibule. Across from the doorway was a cracked mirror, and below it on a table was a centerpiece made of black roses and white sticks. There were three other doors, one leading to a ballroom, another to a dining hall, and the third to a staircase.

She sat down on the ground and took off her muddy boots. Her fingers shook as she tried to undo the straps. She took her shoes off and put them to the side. Her stockings were soaked through, but there wasn’t much to be done about it.

Marinette walked into the dining hall. More of the centerpieces like in the vestibule stood in the corners, and a mahogany table was covered by a black lace tablecloth. There was a set of saloon doors on the far side of the room.

On the other side of the doors was the kitchen. Marinette looked around, spotting a hearth on the other side of the island. There was a pile of firewood next to it, as well as a silver pitcher of water. The only thing in the room was a raven, seated atop a pole with a crooked perch. It stared at them, cawing occasionally.

Marinette put the firewood in and started to get the fire going. She sat down and put her toes near it. The warmth was so inviting that she couldn’t move for a long time. She held her hands out, though she found herself focusing on the black veins in her right arm. They faded about at her elbow, and they didn’t hurt. Nevertheless, she kept shaking as she looked at them.

“I can live with marks on my skin.” Marinette muttered. “I’m just cold.” She inched closer to the fire, noting that her marked arm couldn’t get warm.

As she tried to warm up, she thought of the battle at Nidesouris. That woman… Uncle Wang had called her Nathalie. What evil magic, to kill so many at once… people who were completely separate from the conflict at hand! Their bodies… they’d still been warm. She covered her mouth as she thought of their faces. So many people, dead, just like that… she started crying.

She tore at her hair. “How could I have been so blind?! How could I not have known that I was enchanting the letters?!” She shouted, tears rolling down her face like waterfalls. “How was I so ignorant to the meaning of the mark?!” She covered her eyes. “I just wanted to be a normal witch! I didn’t ask for this _nightmare!_ ”

Marinette cried loudly, believing she was alone. The raven stared at her for a long time. It flapped its wings and started flying around the room. It gained speed as it flew.

There was no great flash of light. No loud sound, no magic spell, no morphing sequence. One moment, the raven was flying about the room, and the next, it had transformed into a young woman. She threw three knives at Marinette, which dodged only narrowly. The mystery girl then fell from her position in the air, her shoes sliding across the tile floor.

Her gown was a deep magenta, almost red, cut to show her white stockings, which were decorated with black roses. Her boots carried similar flourishes. Her kirtle was black, cut in empire style with puff sleeves, and pulled back so its golden embroidery didn’t distract from the gown. She also had long black half-finger gloves.

But her elegant outfit wasn’t the thing she was focused on. No, the most striking thing about this young girl were the wings growing out of her back. She had big, beautiful wings, dark as night, pulled in and kept close to her body. Goat-like horns grew out of her head and curled up around her ears, almost cute. She was a cambion, the child of a human and a demon.

The girl revealed another knife and pinned her to the floor. She held the blade to Marinette’s neck, her glowing blue eyes focused intensely on her face. There was no movement for a long time, just Marinette staring back at her assailant, terrified. She only moved when her arm gave out from under her, resulting in a small yelp.

The girl smiled at her, even though she knew that she’d scared her. “I thought I had found a trespasser, but you’re just a little girl.” She teased. She moved her hand and her foot, freeing her. Marinette shot up, nearly tripping over the door to the fireplace.

“You’re not so grown yourself.” She retorted, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The girl took a few steps closer. At first, Marinette thought that she would attack her again. There was something suspicious in her eyes. They were as blue as a crystal, glowing in the shadow, and her makeup was heavy and dark. It curled into a spiral on her cheek. But, just as Marinette began to scan the room for an escape route, the girl folded her arms behind her back and straightened her spine. “You’re truly very dirty! You’re covered in mud all over.” She said cheerfully.

Marinette looked at her clothes. The mud had started to cake into the fabric. “Yes, well… I was in a hurry to get out of the rain.”

“Oh, but isn’t that the truth!” The girl said. She looked out the window. “I came down to grab a snack before a midnight flight, but had to postpone it for the storm!” She watched the rain for a moment before looking back at her. “My name is Rose.”

“I’m Marinette.” She offered her hand, which Rose took. “Do you live alone here?”

“Not at all! I live here with doux doux.” Rose said. Her eyes grew wide, and she smiled. “Let me introduce her to you. Follow me!”

Rose led Marinette through the house and up the stairs. They went up two stories, completely silent the entire way. As they walked, Marinette couldn’t help but think of all the ways this reminded her of her home. The stairs, the creak of the steps, the hearth in the kitchen… even Rose’s wings reminded her of the paper orioles Uncle Wang used to make.

“If you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t seem to be from around here.” Marinette said.

Rose looked over her shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

“Nothing, really. You’re just a bit cheery for the Hinterlands.”

“The people in the Hinterlands aren’t always gloomy! Just the climate.” Rose giggled. “But, you’re right all the same. I was born in Soleille, in Étandelis.” She thought for a moment. “It’s about thirteen hundred kilometers west of Bitokyūden.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Nothing you’d have to worry about! It’s just a city on the easternmost border of the Ecliptic Sovereignties. Very famous in the Summerlands.”

If she wanted to continue the conversation, she could not, as they had reached the end of the stairs. The top floor of the house was plastered in hunter green wallpaper. The doors were made of light wood with brass hinges and knobs, and at the end, there was a set of doors. Rose pointed to them, and almost… skipped down the hall.

She opened them. “Juleka?” She said, looking around. “We have a visitor.”

“Oh?” There were footsteps, almost drowned out by the shuffling of heavy skirts. A young woman joined them. She wore a black hennin with a translucent green veil over the tips. The ruff on her gown was white and green, stretching over her shoulders. Her black gown had paneled sleeves, the insides bright green. Her bodice was barely noticeable, but for the magenta stripes. The actual skirt of the dress was ornate and beautiful, with black and lace over a bright magenta underskirt. She looked like she had stepped out of a painting.

“Yes! This is Marinette. She’s trying to escape the rain.” Rose said cheerfully.

Juleka sighed. Her face was painted white, and her makeup was reminiscent of a harlequin. “I wish, belle Rose, that you would not invite strangers here.” She said, hiding the slightest hint of a smile. This had happened before. Juleka looked her over, but said nothing.

“The two of you live alone here? Where are your parents?” Marinette asked.

Rose pressed her back into Juleka. She was almost a head shorter than her. “Oh, well, my parents are still in the Summerlands, I assume, but is your mother still in Charon?”

“Yes.” Her tone suggested she would say something else, but then she didn’t.

There was a moment of silence. Rose looked back at Marinette. “But we live here alone.” She waved her hands back and forth. “Originally the goal was to start a coven, but we much enjoy the quiet.”

“Why have you come here?” Juleka asked.

“My hometown of Nidesouris was attacked.” Marinette explained.

Rose looked up at Juleka. “You’ll remember that Nidesouris is a town about five hours south as the crow flies.” Marinette hadn’t realized she’d run for five hours! Suddenly her legs ached.

Juleka thought aloud. “Nidesouris is small, with little of value. What would someone gain by attacking it?”

Marinette raised her hand to rub her arms, as she was still cold. Juleka could now see the black veins on her arm. “That’s sort of complicated. A woman killed probably half the town.” She folded her arms in front of her. “My uncle tried to fight her, but Nathalie is just so powerful…” Marinette lowered her eyes. “He’s probably already gone.”

Juleka’s eyes grew wide. “Nathalie?” She looked at the black veins and then at Marinette, raising one hand. “Wait. You’re one of them.” She lowered it. “You’re a Cheng.”

“Dupain-Cheng, but, yes.” Marinette frowned. “Does that mean something to you?”

“Nathalie attacked my home of Charon, too, when I was eight years old.” She said. “She was looking for your mother, but she’d already left. That didn’t stop her.”

“You knew my mother?” Marinette asked.

“ _Knew?_ She’s already passed on?” She shook her head. “No. No, I didn’t know her.” The answer was rushed, like she was lying. “But… is it true? You’re a… you’re… you carry her blood?”

Marinette looked between them. “Yes, I do.”

Juleka’s eyes flashed with determination that seemed almost alien in her somber face. “Follow me.” She pushed past them to march towards the stairs.

Rose seemed even more surprised than Marinette. “I’ve never seen Juleka so intense. It’s strange.” Rose followed her without saying anything else.

She followed Rose and Juleka. Juleka led them to a door with mirrors and chains keeping it shut, like a puzzle box. Juleka grabbed a match and lit a black candle. When the flame settled, Juleka opened the compact mirror on her hand. She used it to catch the light, and refracted it into the mirrors.

The little bit of light that caught the mirrors on the doors caused them to open. They only opened a little bit, and they had to walk single file through the opening. Just beyond the doors was a treasure room. Armor and weapons were displayed on shelves, and expensive paintings long since lost hung on the walls. There were chests overflowing with gold teeth. Marinette’s jaw dropped. She had never seen so much money! More than that, Rose and Juleka weren’t even impressed by their wealth. They just started going through their treasure.

“Before we settled here, we were adventurers.” Rose explained when she saw her shocked face. She grabbed a sword and held it up. It started to glow like the auroras. “This belonged to the Queen of Chanuage, before she met her fate at the hands of a Great Dragon.”

“You killed a Great Dragon?” Marinette asked incredulously.

Rose giggled. “No, but I stole this sword!” She said cheerfully. She looked at it. “He was asleep on his horde, but had pushed this away from him. He didn’t hear me fly in as a raven, then couldn’t get up fast enough to catch me once I grabbed it!” She pretended to spar with it. She wasn’t very good, but she seemed to enjoy it. “I intended to sell it, but the Summerlands are so serious about stuff like this!”

Juleka stood up straight. She turned. “If you’re a Cheng, then that means the traitor will be hunting you.” She redirected, completely ignoring everything Rose had just said. Juleka looked her over. “Your magic is unfocused. Unstable. You’re an easy target.”

“Why would he come after me?” Marinette asked. “Does he know about me?” She paused. “Did she… is she still alive?”

“If your mother has passed on, then she did so naturally. If he had her power, the world would know it.” Juleka said. She offered Marinette a box. It was painted black with a silver skull latch. Marinette opened it. Sitting inside was a pair of scissors.

But even as she looked at them, she could tell these weren’t ordinary scissors. The blade was long, almost like a dagger, and they were so sharp even the air seemed to tremble in fear of being cut. Rather than a screw keeping it in place, there was a jewel. It seemed to be amber, and encased within was a ladybug.

“This is one of the ancient treasures that started the War of Kings. This is a weapon that the Fémurrian king sacrificed eight hundred lives to protect. That his heir lost at the hands of the Liberty.” Marinette picked up the scissors. It whistled softly even just slightly moving it. “Atropos; the end of the thread of life.”

Rose looked at Juleka nervously. “That’s a dangerous weapon. Are you certain it’s safe for her to use it?”

“She’s the only person who can.” She argued. Juleka looked back at her. “For now, it will focus your magical energies. As you grow stronger, it will feed on you, and the blades will grow stronger.”

Marinette looked at the scissors and frowned deeply. She looked up at Juleka. “Why are you giving me this?” She asked.

Juleka frowned, too. “My mother told me stories about your family. About the war and the rebellion.” She said. “About the traitor’s descent into treachery and his plans.” She shook her head. “If you fall to him, everyone will suffer for it. So you must protect yourself.”

Marinette froze. “I… I don’t want to hurt anyone…” She whispered.

“There’s no sin in defending yourself or others.” Juleka said firmly. “If the traitor threatens us, and your mother has passed on, then you are the only person who can stop him.”

Already, Marinette seemed daunted. Rose forced the scissors back into the box. “Juleka, why don’t you get started on dinner?” She suggested. She looked at Marinette. “I’ll show Marinette to her room, and she can get out of those dirty clothes.”

Marinette nodded. She followed Rose as she led her to the guest bedroom. She wore a pensive face, and it seemed unnatural on her cheery face.

Upon arriving, Rose helped her get her things settled. “This is Juleka’s brother’s room. He visits on occasion, but he left for Charon a few days ago, so he likely won’t be back for a bit.” She smiled. “He wouldn’t have minded, anyway.” She explained quickly how to use the shower, and then excused herself quickly. She slammed the door as she left, albeit unintentionally.

Marinette was alone once again. She opened the box to look at the scissors. There was something… evil about them. Her fingers shook as she took them out of the box. She stripped down to her underclothes, separated them from her dirty clothes, and got into the shower. It wasn’t until she looked down to watch the water run off her body that she realized that they were still in her hands.

Marinette stared at the scissors. Oh, they were cursed without a doubt. She could have sworn that she could see the blood of every foe they had vanquished dripping from the blades into the drain… she tried not to look at them. The problem was, when she looked away, she thought of Uncle Wang and Nidesouris.

The lightning. The dead. Running and running and running, escaping an enemy that wanted to kill her just for the accident of birth. Uncle Wang willingly sacrificing himself for her—

No. No, the memories of Nidesouris were too much.

She closed her eyes. Rose and Juleka seemed pleasant. _Nice,_ even. Generous with their time and space. Not to mention, they were clearly in love. It wasn’t… obvious. Juleka didn’t seem the sort to be openly affectionate. But Marinette could tell. And as she thought, she thought only of how lonely she was. She’d never had a friend, not really. A person to love—that was _unthinkable._ And even if she had, that person would likely have died when Nathalie attacked.

She was alone. She’d only ever had Uncle Wang, and he’d died. She was sure of it. Marinette opened the scissors. Her already unsteady hands started quaking.

Marinette started to cut the flesh on her left arm.

It hurt like nothing ever had before. It was like the blades of the scissors were poisoned! But she kept cutting, eventually carving three lines into her skin. She dropped the scissors, and then she watched the blood drip down into to drain. Despite the pain, there was almost… relief.

Followed immediately by shame. Marinette turned the water off and dug around in the cabinets. She pulled a roll of bandages out and wrapped her arm tightly. Now both arms were marked, she thought bitterly. She washed the scissors of blood and put them back in the box.

 

* * *

 

Uncle Wang burst into his home, clutching his side. He was bleeding, but it was a flesh wound. He summoned a blast of magic, first to hide the stairs leading to Marinette’s room, and then to destroy any evidence of her being there. With a wave of his hand, the furniture began to float around him, defying gravity.

Nathalie was growing closer. He could hear her footsteps getting louder. She ran up the steps, and then paused. “Ready to surrender, Cheng?” She asked.

He huffed, coughing up blood as he did so. Maybe it wasn’t a flesh wound. “No. Never.”

Nathalie nodded as she pressed her back to the wall. There was a bloody gash on her chest, aggravated by her missing heart. “Very well.” She said, desperately trying to hide her wounds. She drew her glass wand and rounded the corner.


	3. Ratcatcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Are We Coping With Our Crippling Depression And Loneliness?

Marinette woke up sore all over. Her legs and arms ached. For a brief moment, she forgot that Nidesouris had been attacked, and that she had fled, but then, it came crashing back. She didn’t have the energy to cry anymore.

At some point, either Rose or Juleka had come and collected her muddy clothing, so she had to dig through what Uncle Wang had thrown into the suitcase. She grabbed a white shirt with a black widow spider pattern and a mandarin collar, a black midi-length skirt, and an apron. She slid the scissors into the pocket.

Marinette stared at herself in the mirror. She sat on the trunk at the end of the bed to pull up her stockings. She looked for her boots before remembering she had left them downstairs, so instead she tied her bodice around her waist and fiddled with the locket around her neck.

She realized that she had bled through the bandages on her arm, and panicked, she looked at the linens on the bed, relieved that it hadn’t stained them. She started to unravel them when the door opened.

Marinette hid her arm behind her back when Rose entered the room. “Sleep well?” Rose asked. She was still in her pajamas. She wore fuzzy black pants with a white shirt decorated by a black skull.

She thought for a moment. “I slept,” She said noncommittally.

Rose smiled. “I’m glad.” She said. Her smile vanished. “I made oatmeal for breakfast.”

She led Marinette down to the dining room, where they ate their simple breakfast in near total silence. Marinette could tell that Rose hadn’t slept well, if she’d slept at all. She had heard Juleka crying in the night, so she figured that Rose was trying to comfort her. It was… probably better if she didn’t intrude on them.

“Is everything alright?” Rose asked.

Marinette looked up. She nodded. “Yes. I’ve just been thinking that… I should probably leave right after we finish eating.”

Rose gasped. “So soon? You just got here last night.”

“I don’t want to impose on you. Besides, I need to learn sorcery, and I can only do that if I move on.” She explained.

“Oh… well, wait just a moment.” Rose got up and left the room. She returned a few minutes later and offered her a small mirror. “Juleka enchanted these. You can use them to contact us at any time.”

“Thank you. You’ve both been very kind.” Marinette said.

After breakfast, Rose helped Marinette clean her shoes and pack up her things. Then, they walked to the trolley stop. Marinette had heard there was a trolley linking Châtdurat to Maudite, but had never seen it. The trolley stop itself was fairly humble.

Rose was staring off into the distance. Her eyes lit up suddenly, and she reached into her shirt. She pulled something out and grabbed Marinette’s wrist. “Oh, here. A gold tooth for the fare.” She said.

“Thank you.” Marinette smiled.

“You’re welcome!” Her face fell. She searched her mind for the proper words. “Marinette, about the scissors Juleka gave you…” She said in a cautious tone, “…I don’t think you should tell anyone that you have them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about them.” She said. She stood. “I should get back to the manor before Juleka wakes. Be safe, Marinette.”

“I will. Thank you for everything.”

Rose smiled. She curtsied, and she started walking into the woods. She disappeared behind a tree, and when she came back into view, she’d changed into a raven. She flew away, not looking back. Marinette sighed. She turned over the gold tooth Rose had given her for the ride in her hands. One of her hands was marked by the black veins, chilling her arm down to its core. The other was wrapped with bandages down to her fingers, to hide not only the scars, but the suspicion of them. She slid the tooth into her apron pocket and looked at the locket around her neck instead.

She felt the air grow cold. She looked up to see a shade sitting next to her. A ghost, still lingering in the world. So accustomed to ritual and order that death didn’t stop their schedule. The shade looked at her, his eyes just two slips of light, and he nodded. Marinette nodded back, and they sat in silence, nothing more than strangers.

A light illuminated the area they sat in. Both of them looked up to the tall mushroom growing next to the bench. It glowed a soft yellow light, letting them know that the trolley was near. Marinette hurried to gather her things. She nearly dropped the broom, but the shade caught it. He offered it to her kindly. “Thank you.” Incapable of speech, the shade said nothing, but she appreciated it nevertheless.

The trolley stopped to let them on. It was enclosed entirely, and practically empty. The shade got on first, and then Marinette. She offered the gold tooth to the driver and sat down.

The trolley was rickety, and she couldn’t quite keep her footing. She fell into a seat, and as she tried to hide her embarrassment, she just decided to stay there.

Marinette looked out the window. The trolley went up and over the woods, as they were not quite sparse enough to weave through. This made the tracks even more unstable. She was nervous the whole trip, afraid that the trolley would become too heavy on one side and topple over.

Marinette looked back, ignoring the shades that ignored her. She could see where the woods ended and flatlands began, but that was it. Nidesouris was far behind.

“Goodbye, Uncle…” Marinette mumbled.

 

* * *

 

Nathalie opened her eyes slowly. She was blinded by even the low light of the house. She forced herself to stand, ankles shaking in her boots, grabbing the island to get to her feet. She looked in front of her. Wang Cheng was lying there, dead in a pool of his own blood.

Her eyes grew wide with fear. She’d killed before, that wasn’t her issue—she was supposed to bring Cheng in alive. Her master would surely punish her for failure—Nathalie gripped her throat and dug her nails in. No, that was too much to bear. She would have to find something else to send to la Chrysalide.

She fumbled blindly for her wand. Nathalie waved it. A small light appeared at the end of the wand. It caused the residual magic in the air to glow, and it revealed something interesting—Wang Cheng had hidden a door. Nathalie pointed at the rubble and moved it with a wave of her wand.

Her heels clicked against the tile. Nathalie climbed the stairs and forced open the door. Behind it was a bedroom, and judging by the decorating, one belonging to a teenager. There was a jar on the window, and when she picked it up, she could smell the witchcraft lingering inside it. She turned to see her reflection in a mirror.

Nathalie bent over to look at her face. She cleaned the blood off and fixed her eyebrows, which is when she noticed two boxes, one of makeup and one of jewelry. She blinked, looking at the wardrobe. She ran over to it, finding the inside completely empty.

She reached into her pocket. She revealed a black stone shaped like a moth with enchanted writing along the side. Nathalie squeezed it and channeled her magic into it.

The enchanted writing began to glow violet. “Nathalie, where are you now?” A strident, disembodied voice came from nowhere, the glow shifting with the ups and downs of the words.

“Nidesouris, my lord. In the northeast corner of Fémurre.” Nathalie said. “I followed your lead.”

“You’ve captured Cheng Shifu? He asked, expectant.

She took a ragged breath. “Cheng Shifu lies dead in a river of blood.” She said. She looked at the jar.

“Cheng was necessary to my plan. We’ll never lure _her_ close without him as bait!” He shouted.

“She’s a necromancer. Tell the world you have his corpse, and honor will bring her crawling.” Nathalie advised.

He guffawed loudly. “If it didn’t work with her father, it won’t work with her uncle.” He lowered his voice. “This is an unacceptable failure, Nathalie.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “But I have something better. Cheng was caring for a young woman.” She said quickly. “Either she fled, or he sent her away, because she’s not here now… but she most likely carries _her_ blood.”

There was silence. “If you don’t _have_ this girl…” he warned, “them you have less than nothing.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Nathalie said, looking to the jar in her hand, “but I know someone capable of finding out.”

 

* * *

 

A maid at the restaurant la Pénombre snuck through the kitchen. The head chef was yelling at his underlings, and then screamed at the maitre d’. The maid, thankfully, had avoided his gaze, and was able to go about her business without getting scolded. She quietly opened the larder, sneaking inside without saying a word.

She looked behind the stocked food to check the mouse traps. Most were empty, but she was shocked to find two of the traps had killed a pair of rats.

In most parts of the Hinterlands, rats were considered lucky. After all, four hundred years ago, a siege at the hands of the Summerlands was thwarted because rats infected the soldiers with a plague. It was considered extremely unlucky to kill a rat—though mice were fair game—and the maid had been the one who had set the traps.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. She picked up the bodies of the rats and shoved them into her apron. Then, she found a box of—what was it? She couldn’t even read it—that had gone bad. She used it to hide the corpses in her pockets. “Chef! These… shrimp have gone bad! I’m going to toss them!”

She snuck out into the alley as the chef shouted at her. She dumped the bodies to the side until she could find a safer place to put them. The chef grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

He yelled at her for ten minutes for almost wasting product. She tried to justify it, but he wouldn’t hear it. She put it back in the larder, only to have him yell that they couldn’t serve it.

She sighed and decided to go out for a smoke break. As she passed, a waitress stopped her. “We need twelve gold jaws for a hitman. We think we’re going for a crowdfunding situation.” She whispered as the maid giggled. “You in?”

“I’ll think about it.” She walked outside and looked for the rats. However, their corpses had vanished. She looked around, frantic. She tried to tell herself that a cat had found them, but something told her that wasn’t it.

 

* * *

 

She was under the bed. The ocean crashed around, boats trapped in the wake. Gilded candles spilled embers onto maps and books. A woman without a heart slashed at the crew, her voice barely audible over the cracking lightning.

“ **CHENG!** ”

The woman sees her. She grabs her gown, dragging her out from her hiding spot. She shakes her until she can barely see, and then grabs a whip from her belt. She strikes her over and over, despite crying and pleading. Nothing stops her but the door slamming open.

Juleka shot up, drenched in sweat. She shivered, troubled by the lingering memory. It had been years since Nathalie attacked Charon, but Juleka remembered her lashings like they’d happened yesterday. She tried to calm her racing heart with deep breaths, but it took a long time for her to remember she was safe.

“Doux doux?” Rose said quietly. Juleka looked up. She carried a tray of food, standing in the doorway. She seemed concerned.

Juleka shook her head. “You know I hate it when you call me doux doux.” She muttered.

“I know. That’s why I do it.” She smiled. She put the tray in front of her. “Was it the dream again?”

“I have it almost every night.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t complain. M’an said that during the war, soldiers would do _anything_ to make people give up information.”

Rose frowned. She sat down on their bed and folded her legs. “You don’t have to be grateful that you weren’t raped.” She said. Rose grabbed a silver spoon and scooped up a bit of oatmeal. “Brown sugar and marshmallows, just like you like it. Open up, doux doux, ma jolie.”

Juleka did as Rose commanded. She was the only person allowed to see her like this. Her black hair was mostly hanging loose, her purple bangs pulled out of her eyes into little buns. Her finery and makeup had been cast to the side, leaving only her big brown eyes and a shy smile. The top part of her nightgown was a dark fuschia, and it depicted bats flying away from a town near the bottom.

Rose gave Juleka the spoon. She tried to feed herself, but her hands shook. Rose grabbed a hairbrush and started to comb through Juleka’s messy bedhead. “Marinette left. I walked her to the trolley stop.”

“Where is she—” Juleka began, though her mouth was filled oatmeal.

“Eat!” Rose commanded, reaching around to shut her mouth. It might have looked comical, Rose holding her mouth shut while Juleka was hunched over the bowl like some sort of oatmeal gremlin.

She shoved food into her mouth inelegantly. Juleka watched as Rose plaited her hair and pulled it up. She blushed.

Rose kissed her cheek. “Do you want the hennin today?” She asked, pinning her hair to her head. Juleka shook her head. “Corpus Christi! Don’t do that.” Rose giggled as she held her head still. “I didn’t sleep at all. I’m too worried for you.”

“Me?”

“Of course you, silly.” Rose turned Juleka’s head to touch their noses. “I went into my alchemy laboratory and started brewing up potions and poisons just to calm my nerves.” She said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I gave Marinette one of your mirrors. In case she needs to contact us.”

“I don’t mind. She needs us.”

“What about you? What do you need?” Rose asked.

Juleka turned. “What do you mean?”

“This must be very traumatic. You left Charon to escape your memories of Nathalie, only to have another of her victims appear before you.” She tilted her head. “Making Marinette your champion was, tactically, a solid move, though perhaps not what I would have done.” She looked sympathetically at her. “What do you need to feel safe?”

Juleka couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re too good to me.” She said. She kissed Rose sweetly. “You’re all that I need.”

 

* * *

 

The trolley began its descent. Marinette wasn’t expecting it and slammed into the seat in front of her. She was too afraid to move from the position, so when it evened out, she also crashed to the floor. It made her already sore body hurt worse.

“Châtdurat…” The conductor’s voice was as spooky as it was uninterested. “All parties to Châtdurat…”

Marinette gathered her things. “Thank you,” She said, curtsying to the driver as she exited. A few people and shades got on, and then the trolley left.

She looked around. Châtdurat was a large city. The cobblestone streets were swept clean, and they were illuminated by street lamps. Most people walked by in groups, trying to keep their clothing from dragging against the ground. Marinette crossed the street. She admired the buildings, which were covered in dark wood and the tiled roofs often curled up like fiddleheads.

She rounded the corner. Marinette nearly ran into a group of people, and she stepped to the side to let them pass. She felt paper crunch and rip behind her, and she turned. She’d bumped into a bulletin board. Marinette smoothed the ones she’d wrinkled, and then read what they said. There was a flyer for a missing cat, an advertisement for dancing lessons, and two bounties, one for a goblin and the other for a werewolf. The bounties has been vandalized, the goblin to look like it was doing something lewd, and the werewolf to cover up the bounty and promote lycanthrope rights.

She bent over to grab the ones she had ripped. She picked up an advertisement for a nightclub called Sinistre, which was of course open for twenty-four hours a day in the Hinterlands as the sun never rose, and the other was for a singles meetup at a different nightclub called la Nébuleuse.

Marinette’s eyes lingered on the singles meetup flyer. She thought back to Rose and Juleka, and how happy they were together. The thought was so appealing. A person to hold, to confide in, to rely on… to kiss. Marinette wanted that. She tried to commit the address to memory. Yes, her studies were important, but surely this was important too?

She turned to walk down the street. As she started to walk, she spotted a handsome young boy about her age, walking towards her. Marinette straightened her hair with her hands, and she smiled shyly as he got closer. But, he kept walking, not even noticing her.

Her heart sank, and she looked at the ground. It was _stupid,_ she knew, and it didn’t _matter_ that he hadn’t seen her. But still, she wanted nothing more than the earth to swallow her whole. She stumbled almost blindly about, with only the palace lantern to guide her, until she came across a narrow street. Just ahead, she saw a wooden sign with a magpie on it. That was the shop she was looking for. Marinette sighed, and she picked up speed to go inside.

 

* * *

 

The River Aveugle ran next to Châtdurat, marking its westernmost border. The Colony Bridge led out of the city and into the Hinterlands, marking the low road next to the trolley line. Adrien sat on a bench, watching people pass and go over the bridge. He was eating out of a plastic container, not really enjoying what he was eating but having no real choice.

He heard something like a cat bell ring behind him. He ignored it, hoping that it had nothing to do with him. He kept eating, pretending like it wasn’t growing louder.

The ringing was soon louder than the raging river in his ears. Electricity coursed through his body, causing him to convulse. People looked at him, and he smiled weakly through the agony. Adrien forced himself to stand, his food falling from his lap and clattering on the ground.

He started to walk when he caught his reflection in the river. He work a black-and-grey striped mock turtleneck, dark jeans, and black boots with straps. He wore a black jacket with rolled up sleeves and a white satin lining, depicting bare tree branches. Around his neck was a wine-colored scarf, a cat bell choker, and a silver crescent moon pendant. His wrist was covered in spiked bracelets.

He smoothed his hair idly. For a moment, he was lost, not even really looking at himself, and then he remembered why his heart was pounding out of his chest.

Adrien walked away from the shore. He saw a pale violet light in a nearby alley, and he followed it.

The butterfly had touched a plaque on the brick. It had temporarily turned this into a silvery channel, which he instinctively kept his distance from. Adrien tightly grabbed the strap of his bag. “Who am I speaking to right now?” He asked cautiously.

“This is Nathalie.” The voice said. Adrien let out a sigh of relief and relaxed. “I have a job for you.”

“What is it? Some ruffian forget to pay his dues?” He asked sarcastically.

The jobs he did were simple, and while he was trained to handle it, they were also very safe. So he certainly wasn’t expecting her to say, “I need you to track down and capture the daughter of Cheng.”

Adrien froze. “What? Cheng never had a child, certainly not a _daughter._ ” He argued.

“Cheng Shifu is dead. He died protecting the identity of his charge. He wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t _her_ daughter.” Nathalie argued.

“Nathalie… I don’t think I can do this!” He admitted. “Even if I can find her, she’ll probably—”

“This isn’t up for debate. I have to deliver Wang Cheng’s body to Veràsoie. I can’t do this myself.” Nathalie interrupted. “And if you want to keep living the way you are… you’ll do what he wants, no questions asked.”

Adrien frowned deeply. He looked away from the channel and sighed. “I understand.”

A new voice spoke. “Good. Don’t fail me.” Adrien shuddered as his father severed the connection. He took a deep breath.

 

* * *

 

Marinette flipped through the pages of the grimoire in her hands. She had bought three of them, unable to decide which of them would benefit her most, though the one she was reading was a book of beginners’ spells and advice for those who were attempting to self-teach.

Witchcraft was ritualized, requiring patience and focus, and it was an umbrella term for the studies of enchantment, alchemy, and transfiguration, as well as many others. Sorcery involved focusing magic into external forces, so the studies of conjuration, evocation, and illusion. There was another form of magic, she learned in this book, that was almost never practiced in the Hinterlands called divine magic, named for one of its subgroups, divination, but also held and abjuration.

She flipped to a water spell and tried to mimic the motions described. Marinette looked at her hand. She could almost see the magic course through the black veins, and she could definitely feel it. But she was having trouble focusing it into her will.

Marinette wasn’t watching where she was going, and she slammed into a stranger. She fell back and landed hard on the cobblestone, her belongings falling around her. Her suitcase opened up, and her clothes exploded everywhere. “Oh, no!” She scrambled to collect them. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention!”

The person she bumped into chuckled. “That’s alright. Let me help you.” He picked up some of her clothes and folded them as she scrambled to get them. Marinette diver for her broomstick and the palace lantern, which had rolled into the street. She stood once she had it, dusting off her clothes.

She looked at the person she’d crashed into. He was still collecting clothes, and when he finished, he closed the suitcase. He stood, holding her it and her books. He smiled at her, and Marinette felt her heart melt. He was about her age, and he was so handsome he probably could have stopped traffic. She stared at him quietly, her face beet red.

He chuckled again, holding out her belongings. “I think these belong to you?” He said. She hesitated, looking at his hands, and then up at him. There was something gentle and kind in his green eyes. She took them, her fingers brushing against his skin. He stared at her hands for a moment. “Are you alright?” He asked, taking her right arm in his hand. “This looks awfully painful, and your skin is ice cold.”

“I’m brine! I mean, stein! I mean, you’re fine! _I’m fine!_ ” Marinette stammered, feeling stupid and horribly tongue tied. Her skin might have been cold, but her face was red hot. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “It’s no big deal.” There was a moment where neither spoke. “Are you studying to be a sorceress?” He asked, pointing at the books.

“Oh, this?” She couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I’m learning to try sorcery! I mean, trying to learn dordery! I mean, porcfery!”

“Sorcery?” He suggested.

“ _Tortercy!_ ” She declared firmly.

After a moment, he sighed, but it was more out of contentment than exasperation. “I’m a pretty accomplished sorcerer myself.” He said. He raised his hand to summon fire, which he danced around to impress her. He controlled it so effortlessly! “Though, I had the benefit of private tutors and a near decade of training.”

“That’s amazing! Can you do other things?”

His face flushed, and he grinned nervously. “No, not really. Shadow and fire, mostly, a bit of shapeshifting here and there.”

“I thought humans couldn’t shapeshift!” Marinette asked.

“Did I say shapeshift? I meant spirit summoning!” He said. He offered his hand to her. “My name is Adrien.”

She blushed as she took his hand. “Marinette,” She said quietly.

“You know, Marinette,” Adrien said, and she felt the butterflies in her stomach grow even more nervous at the sound of him saying her name, “it’s not really safe to practice magic in the street. Something night catch on fire.” He pointed down the road. “But there’s plenty of open space outside Châtdurat. I can give you some pointers, if you want.”

“That would be great! I admit, I’ve been having some trouble getting started.”

He smiled. “Great! Let me show you.”

They walked almost silently, Marinette occasionally looking up at him. He caught her once, and her face grew red. She avoided his eyes after that, her heart beating out of her chest. Since she wasn’t talking, Adrien filled in the silence with a dour whistle, his arms folded behind his back. He raised them to his neck.

Marinette blinked when she heard something hit the ground. The clasp on Adrien’s pendant must have come undone, as it had fallen to the ground. She reached for it, but he kicked it accidentally. It slid into the shadow of the alley.

“Oh, your necklace fell!” She said.

“Did it? I didn’t notice.” He muttered. He looked around his feet. “I don’t see it…”

She smiled. “I saw where it went. I’ll go get it!” She chases after the silver pendant. It had slid much farther than she thought, to a place where even the glow on the street lamps didn’t reach. When she found it, she held it in her hands. There was some sort of enchantment on it, and she tried to identify it as she stood slowly.

“Marinette…” Adrien said quietly.

“I found it. Don’t worry!” She smiled.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “You know, you seem very kind and thoughtful.” He said. Marinette blushed. “I really, _really_ don’t want to do this.”

Marinette blinked. “Do what?” She asked as she started to turn.

Adrien stood behind her with a metal rod. “I’m sorry,” was all he said before striking her across the face with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> m'an is short for 'maman' which in turn is short for 'mere'. if 'mere' is mother, 'maman' is 'mama' or 'mommy,' and 'm'an' is more like 'mom' or 'ma'. this was chosen after being introduced to anarka, with whom my 'had red hair when she was younger' headcanon i will take to my grave


	4. Running With Scissors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Chief Of Police, I Believe Even 500 Murders Is Too Many

Adrien ducked into his apartment. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm his nerves, and he put the dead rats on the counter. He stared at them for a long time, not wanting to turn around. Then, he glanced over his shoulder.

Marinette was tied to the leg of his bed. He had put a pillow under her, and wrapped her in a blanket. He’d been too afraid to tie her to the mattress—because of implications—so he had done his best to make sure she was comfortable.

If he was being honest, he was freaking out. Adrien took a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair, and then brought them down to his neck. Kidnapping? He looked over his shoulder once again. That had never been discussed.

Not that he had a choice. Adrien grabbed the cat bell around his neck as he remembered what had happened last time he’d disobeyed his father. He shook his head and started to cut up the rats.

He prepped them, and then he seasoned the meat. He put it in the oven and pressed his back against it to watch Marinette. She’d been unconscious for a long time. He would’ve worried that he’d killed her, if he couldn’t have heard her breathing.

He jumped when he heard a knock on his window. Adrien looked up to see a moth waiting there. He sighed, stood, and opened the window. It flew inside and infected the oven door. “Who am I speaking to?” Adrien asked.

“That’s not a very _polite_ way to answer a call,” his father scolded.

Adrien sighed again. “I’m sorry, Father. Did you need something else?”

“Not as such. I was just checking in on the last job you were sent on.” He said. There was a pause. “Were you able to capture her?”

Adrien turned to look at Marinette. “Yes. She’s unconscious right now, though.” He reported. “I haven’t even gotten the chance to question her.”

“Good. I’ll inform Nathalie that you have her. She’ll come to get her within the next few nights.”

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but his father severed the connection without so much as a goodbye. He huffed, annoyed, and then closed the window. He looked outside as he waited for the rats to cook, watching the people go by.

Adrien didn’t really know anyone in Châtdurat. It was better that way, since most of the time he was just spying for his father, anyway. Watching where the demon hunters went. Checking in on dead drops and agents. Listening for stories of strange lights and weary travelers. Occasionally, Adrien would hunt down agents who tried to weasel their way out of service. Those jobs were harder. Adrien had done enough of them to know exactly what he was risking. Even so, he felt invisible. The world spun, apathetic to his existence, and most days it didn’t even—

The apartment was full of smoke. He’d burned the rats.

Adrien abandoned his reverie to pull open the window and the oven. He grabbed a dish towel to pull them out, and then dropped them on the stovetop. He shook his burned hands, and then huffed.

He could feel the anger burning up inside him. A wave of panic ran through him, and he ran to the icebox. On the top shelf there were three boxes of vials. Inside the vials was a bubbling green liquid. Adrien grabbed one and drank it quickly.

As he drank, he heard Marinette grunt behind him. He put the empty vial in the trash and turned around. She was stretching and trying to stand. Adrien walked over to the oven, put some of the meat on a plate, and grabbed a fork. “Hey, not so fast.” He advised, taking a seat next to her. “You took a hard hit. It’s going to hurt for a while.”

Marinette took a second to process this. She looked around quickly, but when her eyes fell on him, she remembered everything. “ _Corpus Christi!_ Get away from me!” She shouted, scrambling to move.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” Adrien said. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Who are you?! Why did you kidnap me?!” She demanded, desperately trying to kick him.

She couldn’t quite get the angle right. Adrien shifted a few centimeters to the side. He sat cross-legged and put some meat on the fork. “Here. You need to eat something.” He said. Marinette’s nose curled at the smell, and she turned her head. “I know, I’m a terrible cook, but you have to keep your strength up.”

“You’re one of the traitor’s agents! What does he want from me?!”

He sighed. “If you know who he is, you already know what he wants.” He said. He tried to feed her the rat again. “Please. You could be here for several nights, at least. You have to eat.”

She turned to yell at him, but he took advantage of this and shoved the fork in her open mouth. Marinette chewed it twice before spitting it out.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I expected.” Adrien ate some of it himself, noting that it hadn’t been burned too badly, but was perhaps a little salty. He picked up what Marinette had refused to eat and threw it away. He started to clean up.

Marinette struggled to free herself, but she never took her eyes off of him. She tried to wiggle her hands free, and then she tried to arch her back to try to pull them out. She was tied up too tightly to escape, but her scissors almost slipped out of her apron pocket when she arched her back. She sat back down, not wanting Adrien to see that he hadn’t taken everything from her.

“So… you really _are_ Cheng’s daughter.” Adrien said, almost absently. “I didn’t know that she had one.”

“If the traitor had known she did, he would have had twice the chance of success.” Marinette said. She was quiet. “I didn’t even know I was her daughter.”

“You didn’t know your mother?” Adrien asked. He was looking at her now.

Marinette hid her apron pocket behind the blanket. “No. She died a long time ago.”

He seemed shocked, and then his face fell. “I’m so sorry. Obviously, none of us knew, or we would have–”

“What? You would have tried to loot the magic from her corpse?” Marinette demanded.

Adrien looked at her sadly. He looked down at his hands. “How much do you know about the feud between our families?” He asked.

“ _Our_ families? You’re related to the traitor?”

“I’m his son.” Adrien admitted. He looked like he was about to say something else when he glanced at the door. He grabbed a long piece of cloth from the counter and ran to her. “I’m sorry. I have to gag you. Someone’s coming and I can’t explain this.”

“Wait a minute! What do you mean—” There was no time to finish her thought, as Adrien gagged her. He pulled the blanket over her.

“Whatever you do, don’t move! Please!” He ran for the door just a moment after a knock came to it. Marinette started making noise, which Adrien drowned out with, “Just a minute!” She heard the door open and then shut. “Madame Michelle! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Hello, Adrien. Is your mother home?” A woman, Madame Michelle apparently, asked.

“Ah. Um, no, she’s not. I’m sorry.” He said. Did he live with his mother? Marinette’s quick look around had suggested he lived alone. It was a studio apartment, after all. But the bed was large, probably enough for a mother and her son, even if that son was a teenager.

Madame Michelle seemed unhappy at this. “That’s terribly disappointing. I haven’t seen her in months.” Maybe the mother was a cover story. “Listen, I was just feeding Whiskers when I heard something strange coming from your apartment. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, everything is fine! Mother’s birthday is coming up, so I thought I would capture an imp for her! She’s always talking about how there are no places to get fresh imp’s blood in Châtdurat.” He lied. “The problem is, I don’t have the heart to kill him, so I’ve got him chained to the bed.”

“Be careful that he doesn’t scratch the floors, Adrien.” She advised. “Oh, I just remembered that I have to go get something. Can you watch my son for a few minutes?”

Adrien hesitated. “This isn’t a great time, Madame Michelle…”

“If the imp is chained to the bed, he shouldn’t cause too much trouble. Your windows are closed, right?” She said. “I promise I won’t be gone for more than half an hour.”

He hesitated again. “Okay, I can do that.” Bad move, Marinette thought. Adrien locked the door. Or maybe it wasn’t.

Their voices disappeared as they left. Marinette struggled to knock the covers off of her. When she could see, she arched her back and wiggled until the scissors slid from her pocket onto the floor. It took a bit of work to kick them back towards her fingers, and then even more to get them to where she could grab them. Marinette carefully opened them, and then with one solid slice, she cut through the ropes.

With her hands free, Marinette removed the gag. She took a few steady breaths, and then carefully considered her plan. Adrien was watching Madame Michelle’s son, who lived close enough to him that she could hear her when she’d struggled. If she went stomping around, Adrien would come to investigate. Step one, she decided, was to take off her boots.

She tiptoed around the apartment. She couldn’t find her suitcase or her broomstick, which either meant he had hidden them in anticipation of an escape attempt, or he had left them in the alley because he knew she wouldn’t need them where she was going.

Without her broomstick, Marinette had no choice but to wait until Adrien came back, and then make a break for the door. She still had time, though, so she decided to snoop while refining her plan.

Madame Michelle had mentioned he’d lived there without his mother for at least a few months, but Adrien hadn’t decorated much at all. There were no pictures on the walls, no rugs on the floor and no furniture besides the bed and a table with two chairs, one of which was clearly favored over the other. The clothes in the closet were of fine quality, though many seemed untouched. There was a staff leaning up against the winter coat. It had two pointed ends. One end of it was pointed out like a spear, the other was pointed to the side, shaped sort of like an arrow and it’s shaft, though just metal.

She moved on to the kitchen. The rat still smelled terrible. Marinette had heard Uncle Wang talk of having eaten and prepared rat, though he spoke of serving it with sauce and seasoned like one would a kabob. She tried it again, and choked it down.

“Ugh! Like burned, under seasoned, over salted chicken.” She criticized. “There are other spices, Adrien. Get a cookbook…”

She rolled her eyes and opened the icebox. She was taken aback by the vials. There was, quite literally, _nothing_ inside but the vials! She grabbed one and uncorked it.

Marinette was too afraid to taste test it, but it smelled very strongly. She could smell plumeria, mock orange, wolfsbane, and mint. It seemed to boil, so maybe drake’s blood, and judging by the black dots, probably butterflies, too. Without tasting it, she couldn’t even begin to fathom what else was inside. What kind of potion was this, and why did Adrien need so _many_ of them?”

She heard footsteps. Marinette dashed back to the bed and hid the fact she’d removed her boots by covering her feet with the blanket. She pulled the gag back up and waited with her arms behind her back, holding her scissors for dear life.

Adrien unlocked the door. He ducked inside with a sigh. He looked at Marinette, and she kicked herself for forgetting she was supposed to be hidden underneath the blanket. “Sorry. It must have been hot under there.” Adrien apologized. He removed the gag as he passed.

“You keep apologizing.” She pointed out.

He paused. “I’ve never done something like this before. I guess I’m nervous.” He looked at her with one hand on his neck.

“Your father keep you out of the family business?”

“My father… is an interesting person.” He said. He grabbed the plate and walked back over to her. “Nathalie is coming to get you. She’ll be here in thirty-six hours.” He said. He smiled weakly with the plate. “Can I convince you to eat now?”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with Nathalie! She’s the one who attacked my home!” She shouted.

“If there were anything I could do, I would do it…” Adrien grabbed the bell around his neck.

Marinette glared at him. Her expression softened to a sad frown. “Is… does that mean my uncle has passed on?”

Adrien didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, he nodded. “Yes.” Marinette tried to hold in her tears. She resisted the urge to cover her face, as it would have revealed she wasn’t tied up. She pulled up her knees to hide her tears. Adrien put down the plate and moved to comfort her. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this,” He said.

He put his hands on her shoulders. Marinette put her scissors in his leg.

Adrien screamed and fell back. Marinette scrambled to her feet and rushed for the door. Adrien, thinking quickly, summoned a bolt of fire and threw it in her path. She yelped and stopped, her feet sliding out from under her. Adrien clawed up his hand and swiped at the air in front of him, conjuring a shadowy hand that slammed Marinette into the cabinets in the kitchen. It vanished as soon as she hit the solid object.

He slowly got to his feet, his leg aching where she’d stabbed him. “I don’t want to do this.” He said, “but I can’t let you go.”

Marinette glared at him, breathing heavily. “I don’t want to do this either,” She said as she stood, “but I can’t let you hand me over to your father.”

He nodded. Adrien summoned fire around his hands and launched it at Marinette. She dodged them best she could, though he burned her arms and clothes. She looked around the room for something to use to her advantage. She glanced at the icebox, and then at her hair ribbon as it caught on fire. She put it out and quickly wrapped it around the scissors, almost making them into a whip.

Marinette suddenly opened the icebox, blocking his latest attack with the door. Marinette grabbed a box of the vials, kicked the table out of the way, and smashed the box on the ground.

Adrien’s eyes grew wide. “ _No!_ ” He shouted, lunging for the box. Marinette swung at him with her scissor-whip, which he narrowly avoided. Atropos cut the leather keeping the cat bell in place, and it fell to the ground with a tiny clink. Adrien grabbed his neck as he stared at the bell. It… was gone! It was really gone! But there wasn’t enough time to enjoy that, as Marinette took advantage of his shock to charge him. He held up a hand. “ _Wait!_ ”

But it was too late. She stabbed his heart and sliced open his neck.

Marinette was breathing heavily. Adrenaline faded as she looked in his pockets for the key, and when she found it, her shaking hands couldn’t hold onto it. When she reached for it, she saw the blood. Marinette looked down to see that she’d killed Adrien, which caused her to immediately panic.

There was a long moment where Marinette didn’t know what to do. He had kidnapped her, so if she could prove that, no one would question that she’d done it in self defense, but it created a larger issue. If the traitor learned that she had killed his son, he would tell his agents to come after her with literally everything that he had.

Marinette had to call Rose and Juleka. She crawled around Adrien’s corpse to go to his closet. She’d been too afraid to go through his things earlier, but now, she had no choice. She pulled all the clothes out of his closet, and found her things hidden within. She grabbed her suitcase and threw it onto Adrien’s bed, digging through it until she found the mirror.

Marinette ducked inside Adrien’s washroom. She kicked the door closed and shut herself inside of the shower. She squeezed the mirror until the connection was made. Rose’s glowing eye was the first thing she saw. “Marinette!” She said cheerfully. “Wait a moment. I’ll go get doux doux!”

“Rose, wait—” Marinette started, but it was too late. Rose left to fetch Juleka, and when she returned, instead of talking into a mirror, holograms of them were projected from the mirror, comparable in size to her torso.

“I’m so glad you called! We’ve been so worried about you!” Rose said. Marinette opened her mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak. “Julie said, ‘Rose, she’s only been gone for a few hours, she can’t have gotten into too much trouble.’ But I was so hoping you’d call!”

Juleka hid a smile. “What are you up to?” She asked.

Marinette paused, wringing her hands together. “I killed someone,” She admitted.

“Corpus Christi.” Juleka walked away. Rose watched her, and then rolled her eyes as she pulled her back. Marinette was on the verge of tears. “Calm down.” Juleka said, apparently past the drama already and prepared to work through the problem. “What happened?”

Marinette explained the situation quickly. “I don’t even want to imagine what he’ll do to me if he finds out that I killed his son.”

“Are you certain that he’s his son?” Juleka asked. “M’an never mentioned him having a child.”

“No, I’m not… but then again, I don’t know what the traitor looks like, so it’s not like I could compare.” Marinette said. She scoffed. “I don’t even know his _name!_ ”

Juleka frowned. “Neither do I…”

Rose folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know it, either, but I’m from the Summerlands. What I know of the rebellion is limited.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “But it doesn’t matter. The immediate problem is doing something about the body.”

Marinette considered this. “I know this sounds crazy, but… I think the best thing to do is to raise him from the dead.”

Rose let her arms fall. “Well, you got one thing right. That’s totally crazy.”

“Marinette, he was prepared to turn you over to his father.” Juleka said. “Why would you want to raise him?”

“Other than ‘I escaped’ seeming like a safer cover story than ‘I murdered your son?’” She asked rhetorically. She was quiet for a moment. “He seemed… hesitant. About everything.” She shook her head. “Maybe it was just jitters, but… I don’t have the whole story here.”

Juleka sighed. She looked at Rose. “I have research to do here. I’ll meet up with you in Châtdurat.” She looked back at Marinette. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Marinette held the mirror close as the communication ended. She sat in the shower for a long time, rocking back and forth. She covered her head and pretended that the world didn’t exist. If it didn’t exist, it wasn’t happening. She longed to be safe at home. She just wasn’t cut out for adventure.

The door opened suddenly. Marinette grabbed her scissors, only to see glowing blue eyes staring at her. She relaxed as Rose entered quietly. “Things seemed to have gotten a bit… heated. It’s hotter than Hell in there.”

Marinette frowned. “He was a pyromancer.” She whispered.

“That explains it.” Rose hiked up her skirt and sat next to her in the shower. “You know you didn’t do anything wrong, don’t you?” She said as she fixed Marinette’s hair. She hadn’t done anything with it since she took out the ribbon. “You had no choice. He kidnapped you, and he was going to hand you over to the traitor.”

Marinette leaned against Rose and stared off into the distance, looking at nothing. There was a long, peaceful moment. “What does Juleka need to do before she comes?” She asked.

“Honestly, I’m not certain. Probably some research into necromancy, so we don’t accidentally start a zombie apocalypse or anything.” Rose suggested. This didn’t really help Marinette to feel better.

Juleka arrived by broomstick about an hour later. She carried many black candles and a few vials of blood. “I’m sorry I took so long. I contacted my mother, in hopes that she could use her experience from the wars to point us in the right direction,” Juleka’s face fell, “but she never _actually_ witnessed your mother perform a resurrection.”

Rose frowned. “That’s disappointing.”

Juleka nodded. “Certainly less than ideal.”

Marinette took a step forward. “But I don’t know any magic. If we don’t even have a place to start, how are we going to resurrect Adrien?”

“Well, the good news is that your mother once told mine that the spell is inborn. You already know how to cast it.” She said. “This having been said, you should probably practice it first.” She raised her hand. She held a dead mouse by its tail between her fingers. “Let’s begin.”

Juleka and Marinette got to work trying to figure out how to raise the mouse. Rose, unfamiliar with most dark magic due to her Summerland heritage, began brewing a truth serum. She sat on the table with her legs crossed, mixing the potion as she watched. Rose ended up finishing her potion before they had made significant progress.

“I’m going to put this in the icebox.” She said loudly. Neither of them looked up, as they were trying to determine whether the mouse was moving. Rose shrugged and opened the door, finding the same potions Marinette had. “What are these?”

“What are what?” Juleka asked. Rose pulled one out to show her. “It looks like poison. Maybe he was going to poison the drinking water?”

“I could smell the wolfsbane.” Marinette said. “That would certainly poison _humans…_ but plenty of things could do that, not just the one plant known to weaken and expose werecreatures.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What is it expected to do?”

“Thankfully, as a half-demon, I’m immune to most poisons.” Rose grabbed a vial and held it up. “Bottoms up!” She uncorked it and drank the contents.

“Rose!” Marinette shouted while she and Juleka watched in horror.

Juleka marched over to her and grabbed the vial from her hand. “Are you crazy? We’re in the home of an agent of the traitor, and you just _drink_ something you found in the icebox?”

“I feel fine, doux doux. It tastes like medicine.” Rose said. Her eyes became dark as she considered this. “Actually… it tastes like the medicine my mother used to give me in Soleille…” Rose grabbed the countertop and covered her mouth. Juleka wrapped her arms around her for support as she started to go limp.

Juleka looked up at Marinette. “Get out of the way! We have to purge her! _Now!_ ”

Marinette jumped and moved to the side as Juleka started to drag Rose through the apartment. Rose’s wings seemed to be molting, leaving behind raven feathers. But a few seconds later, she didn’t even have wings any longer. They sort of… vanished. So did her horns. Juleka looked down to see her looking up at her… with simple blue eyes. They didn’t glow anymore.

“Rose! You’re… human.” Juleka gasped.

Rose seemed to have regained some strength. She stood on her own feet and walked over to the bathroom mirror. “Corpus Christi!” She cursed. When she came back out, she looked as though she had come to a realization. “It’s _glamour!_ ” She stumbled a bit. “That potion is a _glamour charm!_ ”

“Why would Adrien have so many glamour charms here?” Marinette asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s drinking them. He’s a cambion.”

“Even if that’s so, why would he need them?”

“Well, people in the Hinterlands are known for black magic, so demon summoning isn’t so much a big deal here,” Rose explained, “but it’s very, _very_ illegal in the Summerlands, and cambions are sometimes hunted.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve noticed that sometimes demon hunters cross the border into the Hinterlands because they know it’s more common here.”

“Or he might have just wanted a disguise. If he was spying on people here…” Juleka suggested. She shook her head. “There’s only one way to know for sure if he was drinking it. Use your scissors and open up his stomach.”

Marinette hesitated, but she obeyed. She moved his shirt out of the way while Juleka shifted him onto his side. Marinette closed her eyes as she dug into his flesh and cut open his body. Rose had to turn her back.

Juleka watched the blood drain. Soon enough, the potion was purged, and Adrien’s body changed postmortem. Horns disrupted his blond hair, and he had a long black pointed tail. He also had sharp claws and teeth. “You were right.” She said.

Marinette lunged for her suitcase. She fished out the sewing kit, and with Juleka’s enchanting skill, stitched him back together. As she closed his wounds, she thought about how to raise him… and an idea popped into her head. “We need to take him outside of the city.”

Rose helped her tie him to her broom. Juleka volunteered to fly out of the city with the corpse, so Rose and Marinette followed her there. They laid Adrien’s body in the long grass, and Rose put the candles around him in the direction of the Four Winds.

After lighting them, she looked up. The moon was in the center of the sky, the dead trees reaching for it. “It must be getting close to midnight…” she muttered.

“All the better,” Juleka said. They stepped outside of the circle they’d created. Juleka nodded. “It’s all on you, Marinette.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Marinette lifted her marked hand and reached for the moon. The black veins in her arm turned bright red, glowing like lava. It traced the rest of her veins, glowing through her clothes. It consumed her entire right hand side, even infecting half of her face. When she opened her eyes, they were black, like her sockets were hollow.

Suddenly, the stars cut out, like they had died. The moon turned red, like it was blooded, and the rest of the sky followed. Rose shivered as the ambient temperature fell. When Marinette lowered her hand, a glyph appeared, as white and as cold as snow, circling the corpse and snuffing out the candles like a haunted wind.

Marinette’s rib cage lit up, orange, like a candle burned inside of her. Shades gathered on the edge of the area, looking with glowing white eyes, whispering harshly, pointing with hands that looked like bone. They stayed far away, but a dense fog rolled in. Juleka and Rose, huddled together, shared a look. Was Marinette, who had never successfully conjured a sorcerous spell in her life, _truly_ capable of all this?

But it worked. The grass around Adrien turned green and soft. Flies scattered, a bit clumsy from death, and crickets began chirping a simple melody. Green light danced around Adrien, like gas rising from the earth. It circled about, unable to escape the circle until the magic in the air shrieked, sounding like a crack of thunder and a thousand broken souls. The air itself fractured, and Marinette fell, almost completely unconscious.

The second she hit the ground, Adrien’s glowing green eyes snapped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite part of this chapter is everything the girls do while Adrien is, quite literally, dead on the floor


	5. Lazarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yes… I Am Still Very Much Alive!

“Quick, Julie, get his hands!”

Adrien was hyperventilating, so he didn’t have time to process that. He couldn’t see. There was just darkness, until he reached out with his hand. It came into view, but he only felt it when it was yanked behind him. Slowly, the world around him became clearer. He was… in the fields outside Châtdurat.

Rose held his face and forced his mouth open while Juleka tied his hands together. “It’s okay, brother.” Rose said, pouring the truth serum down his throat. Then, she held him as she tried to get him to swallow it. Juleka gave her a thumbs up, so she pushed him down. “You’ve been through a lot. Let’s look at you.” Rose pulled up his shirt to look at the stitches.

“I’m going to check on Marinette.” Juleka said.

Rose glanced at Juleka as she ran to Marinette’s side. Turning her attention back, she could see that Adrien was bleeding. “Side effect of the serum. Not to worry, though.” She felt around her sides before finding a poultice. She poured it on his belly as Adrien squirmed. “Sometimes people react badly to truth serums. Because, you know, sometimes the truth hurts.” She reasoned.

She tested other functions as Juleka lifted Marinette’s head. Her chest was still glowing, highlighting her rib cage like a shadow puppet stage. When she opened her eyes, they were black, but after a moment, they turned back to their normal blue-gray. “Juleka?” She whispered. The veins were fading, but the glow was not.

Juleka smiled. “You did it. He’s alive.”

She shot up like a rocket. “He’s _alive?!_ ” She stood on shaking knees, and the light finally began to fade. Rose smiled, and she moved so Marinette could see Adrien. He was still confused, and he was in bad shape… but he was undeniably alive. “I… I did it!” She giggled madly. “I’m a necromancer!”

“Congratulations!” Rose said cheerfully.

Adrien met Marinette’s eyes. His glowing eyes weren’t as bright as Rose’s would have, had she not still been affected by the potion, but they were undeniably demonic. They looked more feline than human. “H… how did I get here?” He looked around. “What happened?”

“You died. Don’t you remember?” Rose asked.

“I _died?!_ ” He shouted. He looked up at Marinette, flinching when he remembered the scissors. “I died and… you… you brought me back?” He asked. She nodded. “Why?”

Marinette struggled to find the words. Juleka stood next to her with her arms folded behind her back for a few moments. Then, she tapped Marinette’s apron pocket. Marinette reached inside and pulled out Atropos. Adrien flinched again. “You’re going to answer all of our questions!” She demanded.

Adrien took a few deep breaths to try to calm his nervous heartbeat. He still had one, he realized. “Aren’t you worried I’ll use magic to escape? You didn’t bind it.” He asked.

Rose shrugged as she looked at Juleka. “I guess if he tries, we could kill him and then… raise him again.” She suggested.

“No, if we kill him again, I’d much rather he just stay dead.” Juleka said.

Marinette shook her head. “I’d like to see you try! I killed you once, and this time, I’ve brought my allies!”

He looked at her for a long time before he nodded weakly. “I understand.”

She took a step closer. “Tell me _everything_ you know about the blood feud between our families!”

“Sixteen years ago, your mother and my father were helping the major settlements of Fémurre organize into city states after the assassination of King Aldéric. They discovered one of their allies dead, murdered while en route to Cercueil from the Necropolis.” Adrien explained. “Your mother, believing this person deserved to live, resurrected them.” He paused. “My father was angry because they had lost many friends during the war and the rebellions. Your mother accused him of not really caring about them. They argued… she left.”

Marinette shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. My mother was running from him for _years._ What you described just now sounds like the end of a friendship, not the start of a feud.”

Adrien sighed. “My mother, who told me this story, wasn’t there, and I hadn’t even been born yet. Our knowledge of the subject is all thirdhand.”

“You’re working for him, but you don’t know how this started?” Rose asked.

“Working for him was not my choice. My mother fled from my father a few years ago, and she took me with her. When he found us, he bound me to his will with the bell choker you destroyed, and he dragged my mother back to la Chrysalide.” He frowned. “He forced me to kidnap you, Marinette. You have to believe me when I tell you that I never wanted to hurt you!” He seemed upset, and his eyes glowed more fiercely for it. “I don’t want any part of this stupid feud!”

“This is pointless.” Juleka criticized. She looked at Adrien. “Why does your father need the black magic carried in Marinette’s blood?”

“I’m not sure. In the short term, probably to raise the people that they lost.” Adrien hypothesized. “In the long term… he probably wants to conquer the continent. At least Soleille and Aozora, who were Fémurre’s most formidable adversaries in the War on Autumn.”

“That’s impossible! No one from the Hinterlands could conquer the Summerlands.” Rose argued. “Ignoring sunburns and heat stroke, you’ve lived your entire lives without seeing bright light! You’d go _blind!_ ”

“You know who wouldn’t have to worry about going blind?” Juleka asked.

Marinette’s eyes grew wide. “An army of the undead!”

“No! If he marches across the border with the Wight, the people of the Summerlands will never forgive it!” Rose exclaimed. “The war will never end! We’ll be fighting until the end of days!”

“Which might not be long after anyway, if he can’t control it.” Juleka added. She looked at Adrien. “How many agents does he have?”

“I don’t know. Nathalie is his right hand, but he has others.” Adrien said.

For a while, Juleka grilled Adrien about his father. Details, plans, resources—anything she could think of that might suggest he was getting ready to go to war. Then Rose interrogated him about the Summerlands, how many agents the traitor had sent across, if he had spies inside the empires and kingdoms, if he had already conquered territory there. All the while, Marinette stared at him. At his tail which flicked in annoyance, at his glowing eyes, at the way his horns poked out of his hair and bent out slightly at the ends, at his fangs that curled around his lips…

“Why did you use a glamour spell to appear human?” Marinette asked. Rose and Juleka stopped talking to look at her. Adrien seemed shocked, so much so that he couldn’t reply. “You’re a cambion. Are you ashamed? Is the traitor a demon my mother summoned?”

“No, it’s not…” Adrien hesitated. “That’s a really complicated question.”

“I hope it wasn’t for the sake of _vanity,_ ” Marinette said, just barely loud enough for them all to hear, “you’re just as handsome without it.”

“I…” He paused. “Thank you.”

Rose sighed. “The potion has worn off. We can’t be sure if anything else he tells us is true.” She stood and dusted grass from her knees. “We should get going. You need to be far away from Châtdurat before Nathalie gets here.”

Marinette nodded. She pointed Atropos at Adrien’s neck. “Ah, careful. I’m still sore.” He scolded her.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

Juleka frowned at her. “Marinette!” She hissed. “He’s your prisoner! Don’t apologize to him!”

“I’m sorry!” She cringed. Marinette shook her head. She glared at Adrien. “We’re going to let you go, but you are _not_ to tell your father or Nathalie what happened!” She ordered. “Tell them I ran away, or you grabbed the wrong person… whatever you think will work! And don’t tell them about my allies, either!”

Adrien nodded. “You have my word.”

Juleka scoffed. “A traitor’s word isn’t worth the tongue in his mouth.” She spat.

Marinette cut the ropes on his hands. Adrien stood and rubbed his wrists. He rubbed his neck, too, both because Marinette had sliced it open, and because it was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t been bound. He studied Rose and Juleka for a moment, knowing that he could not speak of them but curious as to their allegiance to Marinette.

His eyes stopped at Juleka. “Wait.” His arms fell. “You’re a Couffaine.” He said. “What are you doing on the mainland?”

Juleka didn’t reply. She just glared at him, and then directed Rose and Marinette to head back to the city.

Adrien sighed heavily. He looked around him. He still didn’t understand why Marinette had chosen to resurrect him, but… he certainly wasn’t complaining. He stretched, but when he tried to walk, he realized that there was a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down to where Marinette had stabbed him with her scissors, finding the wound had closed but still ached. He felt around for a stick and used it to support him.

He waited a few minutes before heading back towards Châtdurat, as to not accidentally run into Marinette and her allies. He limped down the road, worried about his horns and his tail. Adrien kept his tail tucked next to the seam of his pants, and he pulled up the hood of his jacket. It sat weird against his horns.

When he made it back to his apartment building, he looked inside before actually entering. With no one in the lobby, he sprinted up the stairs into his apartment. He ducked inside, hoping that no one saw him.

He was shocked to see how trashed it was. He’d expected broken glass and ash, but there was blood and clothes and feathers everywhere. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Adrien walked over to the icebox and grabbed one of his potions before getting started on cleanup. He sneezed as he got close to the feathers.

It had been many months since Adrien had lapsed in drinking the potions. He’d forgotten that the transformation was painful. His father had sent a surplus to him, with a fresh supply every so often, something he did in addition to paying for the apartment and sending him teeth for food. Of course Adrien didn’t use those teeth, as he had been saving them to pay for someone to cut the collar off, and then book safe passage to the Hidden Republic. He spoke the Hidden Language, and his father hadn’t been able to navigate the Spinal Mountains.

But, he didn’t need to do that now. Adrien held his neck. He stood, catching his reflection in the window. He stared at himself. Marinette had asked him why he had hidden his cambion nature… was she right in thinking it was vanity? He rubbed his head where his horns would have been, flinching at the sore spot on his head. It certainly wasn’t for comfort.

He remembered in this moment that it had been at his father’s insistence that he had started drinking the potions. His reasoning was solid, Adrien defended him in his thoughts. Though it had been so long that he didn’t even _remember_ the reasoning. To keep him safe, most likely.

He lost his balance and fell, catching himself on the windowsill. Adrien covered his mouth with his hand, and when tears touched his fingers, he realized that he hadn’t truly lost his balance. His legs had given out from under him. He had tried to keep his cool in front of the girls, but he was struggling with what had just happened.

“I _died!_ ” Adrien exclaimed, letting his hand drop and pressing his head against the wall. He had, honestly and truly, died fighting for something he didn’t even understand. A feud his father had started, that he’d been born into, that everyone knew was dangerous. “I really died!”

His father… Nathalie had given him the mission, but his father had given his blessing on it. He had known that Adrien was fighting a necromancer. Adrien was lucky that Marinette was a kind person, because if she wasn’t—he imagined that a necromancer of her skill could raise him just torture him back to death as many times as she saw fit. There was a reason that necromancy was considered the darkest of all black magic.

While Marinette had taken his life, she had also given it back to him. That part, while her motives were unclear to him, didn’t take much to process. That he had died was the harder part… as was a single kernel of doubt that plagued his mind. The same thought that had consumed his thoughts for many months. “Did… did he know?”

Adrien was fairly convinced that his father did not believe that he would die as a result of kidnapping Cheng’s daughter. However, he was also convinced that his father knew that it was a distinct possibility that he might. And if he did know that, and sent him into that situation anyway… did he even to him matter beyond being a pawn? Adrien turned to look at the bind, the cat bell choker that had controlled him. If he was important to his father… he wouldn’t have bound him, would he?

Adrien threw his cleaning supplies to the side. He grabbed a backpack from his closet and started filling it with clothing and blankets. He put his teeth inside, hiding them so thieves wouldn’t find it. After wrapping them in cloth so he wouldn’t break them, he put many of the vials in a wooden box to take with him. Then, he grabbed the staff from the closet.

His father had made and enchanted it for his mother. When she was taken away, it had been left behind. Adrien had been too nervous to even touch it. He twirled it around to get a feel for how the magic flowed, felt it as it focused through the staff. Adrien tied it up with leather to his backpack.

He looked out over the apartment. He had lived here for a long time, after all. Adrien took a deep breath and closed the door behind him as he left.

 

* * *

 

Rose helped Marinette attach her things to her broomstick. A tent was tied to the end, as Marinette realized she would not always be able to stay in towns or cities, and now understood the dangers awaiting her there. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Rose asked, holding her hands. “You’re really no bother.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you, Rose. But, no, I can’t endanger you further.”

“You’ll need to study magic as quickly as you can.” Juleka advised.

Rose agreed reluctantly. “The further you go, the less likely it is that doux doux and I can bail you out if you get into trouble.” She added.

“I know. But after tonight, I feel like a clog has gone from my veins. Learning it will be easier.” Marinette looked at the markings on her arm.

“What about Adrien?”

Juleka folded her arms across her chest. “I have a bad feeling about this. He’s going to betray you.”

“No, I trust him.” Marinette smiled softly. “I believe him when he says that he was forced into the role of my enemy. He isn’t a bad person.” Her smile fell as she considered.

“Whatever you say.” Juleka said, unconvinced. “I don’t have to like your decision to respect it.”

Rose smiled softly. “What’s your next step?”

“I’m just going to keep a low profile. I’m probably going to go to Maudite, and then south away from the Summerlands.” She rubbed her face. “Just being this far north is hurting my eyes.”

Juleka pushed a stray hair from her face. “You did well. Your mother would be very proud of you.” She said.

Marinette smiled sadly. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Juleka said as she gave Marinette a few teeth. She looked at Rose. “Well, we best be on our way.” Juleka climbed onto the broomstick, and Rose climbed on as well, as she was still temporarily human.

Rose kissed Marinette’s forehead. “Call us when you get to Maudite.” She said, waving goodbye as they took to the sky.

Marinette waved to them as they flew. When they were out of sight, her smile vanished. She sighed heavily, and she started walking out of the city. She looked at her arm, tracing the veins. They had receded, back to their original length of just to her elbow, but it felt… colder? Or maybe that was just her imagination.

She walked to the trolley stop and sat down. There were living people this time, and it seemed crowded. Marinette sat down on a bench and held her things in her lap. She leaned back to look at the clock, which ticked away the minutes slowly.

The longer Marinette sat, the more tempting it was to spy on the people around her. But as she spied, on the woman walking with her baby, on the man feeding the little green dragons that lived in cities like pigeons, on the couple holding hands in the corner… she realized that she didn’t trust anyone.

Every person who passed her was a potential threat. She wondered if someone would attack her the moment she stepped on the trolley. Marinette couldn’t sit still any longer, and she started biting her nails. When this couldn’t calm her, she put her things between her legs and pulled on her pigtails. She had to get to Maudite. She just _had_ to! The trolley was the fastest way, but…

Marinette hesitated as the trolley pulled up to the station. She turned the teeth over in her hands, and then made up her mind. Marinette stood and left the trolley station. She was shaking the whole time, but Marinette couldn’t trust the people around her. She followed signs through the twisted streets of Châtdurat until she found herself at the edge of town.

The great iron gates were shut, but she could see through them. The road was straight for as far as she could see, but it would likely twist and turn as she travelled further. Marinette looked over her shoulder, wondering if she shouldn't head back… but she had already made her decision. “Excuse me,” She said politely to a guardsman, “could you open the gate, please?”

He unchained the gate and opened it for her. Marinette curtsied and passed through, and the guardsman shut the gate behind her. “No one gets back in.” He said gruffly.

She frowned, but nodded. Marinette got onto her broom. “Well, no turning back now.”

 

* * *

 

Nathalie entered the apartment building, directing the chauffeur in the hearse outside to wait. She dug around in her pockets as she climbed the stairs, and she found the key. She unlocked the door to Adrien’s apartment, and she walked inside without looking.

She found the place half trashed, as though someone had tried to clean up the mess, but gave up halfway through. There was no sign of Adrien, or Cheng’s daughter. She searched everywhere, in the bathroom, and the closet, and the other apartments after breaking their doors. Nathalie stormed back into the apartment, where she saw something she hadn’t before—Adrien’s cat bell bond.

She picked it up, noting that the enchantment has been sliced clean through. She slammed it on the ground and grabbed the stone to contact her master. “He’s gone!” She shouted as soon as the connection was made.

“What? Who’s gone?” He demanded.

“Adrien! Cheng’s daughter cut the bond connecting him to you, and he fled!” She explained.

There was a long period of silence, but the stone became red hot in Nathalie’s hand. She dropped it, and she took two steps away from it. It started to smoke, and she covered her ears. “ **ADRIEN!** ”


	6. Cut It Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giant Hole Swallowing Up Your House Added To List Of Things To Worry About

Juleka’s broomstick grew closer to the ground with each passing moment. Rose jumped off before they’d reached it, however, her knees buckling under the her. “Oof!” She almost lost her balance and would have fallen if Juleka hadn’t grabbed her. “Thank you, doux doux!” Rose grinned as Juleka stepped off the broom.

“You should be more cautious.” Juleka advised as they linked arms and walked towards their home.

“Oh, I hate riding broomsticks! So uncomfortable.” She said. She rubbed her head with a frown. “I feel so vulnerable without my horns and wings.” She grinned at Juleka. “Never thought I would miss the demonblood.”

Juleka smiled, but it was faint and faded quickly. Rose frowned, and she looked away. Juleka unlocked the door and they went inside. “I worry about how long we were gone. M’an wants me to keep an eye on the road.” She looked at Rose’s sad face. They’d been through so much over the years… but she was still a mystery. Juleka built up her courage. “You mentioned the potion tasted like medicine your mother gave to you.” Her frown deepened. “Is that common?”

“Why are you asking?” Rose said as she removed her shoes and put them by the door.

“Because I realized that I never have.” She said. “You’d mentioned her in the past, but until we met Adrien, I thought your experience was uncommon…”

Rose frowned. “So did I.” She walked over to Juleka and pushed her into a chair. She was caught off guard, and she blushed as Rose hiked up her skirts, but she simply started to untie her boots. “My mother escaped from a cult that forced her to carry me… she used her alchemy skill to keep me hidden.” She removed one boot and started on the other. “She taught me everything she knew about alchemy specifically so I could continue to make the medicine. I didn’t even know I was a cambion until I was much older. I don’t think I was ever supposed to know.”

“Do you resent her for that?” Juleka asked. “Hiding who you were from you?”

“Well, that’s just how the Summerlands are. If they had known I was a cambion, either the hunters would have been called, or they would have drowned me.” Rose pulled off the other boot. She draped herself over Juleka’s leg, looking up at her. She frowned. “Why are you asking all these serious questions? Do you… is this strange for you? You never saw me like this.”

“I love you, belle Rose. Not your form.” Juleka reassured her. Rose smirked and raised her eyebrow. “Your horns are one of my favorite things about you. They’re quite striking.” She admitted with a blush on her cheeks. She held her face in her hands. “Do you miss your mother?”

“ _I_ miss _her,_ ” she admitted as her face fell, “but if _she_ could remember _me,_ she would be glad that I was gone.”

“Rose…” Juleka said, taking her hands.

She shook her head. “There’s no time for that. I stole an extra vial of the glamour from Adrien’s apartment. I’m going to study it, maybe learn more about what we’re up against. You get to work on your enchantments.” She moved towards the stairs as Juleka stood. “If you’re right and Adrien betrays Marinette, the traitor’s forces might come up this road. We’ll need to fight them if they do.”

Juleka followed Rose to the bottom of the stairs. “I love you, Rose.” She admitted, ignoring her burning cheeks. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me…”

Rose smiled. “I’m saving the most interesting bits for myself until it’s dramatic enough to reveal them!” She teased. “We’ll see what comes next, yes?”

 

* * *

 

The frozen bog surrounding Veràsoie was always cloaked in a dense fog. It wove through half drowned trees and masked the skeletons frozen beneath the surface of the black ice. Nathalie carried a lantern made from a human skull, and the light burned away the fog so she could see where she was going as she crossed the iron bridge.

After crossing the bridge, she got onto a rowboat. A simple spell called the enchantment into being, and it navigated the water without her needing to guide it. It broke through the ice in its way. Eventually, she could see the corpses hanging from the trees, posed to serve as a warning, and she raised her arm to make the lantern burn brighter.

La Chrysalide was a mansion in the southernmost reaches of the frozen bog. Once upon a time, it had been a beautiful home, but that was more than ten years ago. Like most of the trees, it was half sunk, the back part of the building too heavy for the bog to support. The mansion was surrounded by brick walls, and closed off by an iron gate. Muck had permanently turned the walls a sickly green, and iron bars closed off all the windows. The courtyard was flooded up until the stairs leading to the front door.

The boat docked next to them. Nathalie stepped out into the water, her boots tracking mud with them. She opened the door to the main hall. Because the house had sunk, it was hard to keep her balance. Furniture was nailed down to keep it from sliding. Vines hung from the walls and cardinal flowers grew in the corners. The main stairs were clear of water, but it had made its way into the room, flooding the area immediately around them. The hanging lanterns only glowed faintly, and now moss was growing from the ceilings. She swatted a few Polyphemus moths from her face, as they had infested the mansion.

She walked carefully towards the atelier. This room was badly flooded, with lotuses and ferns growing in the sunken center of the room, despite having no food or light. On the farthest wall was a painting of the family, but it was so badly ripped and waterlogged that it was barely recognizable. Nathalie was quiet as she saw her master, standing at his podium, flipping through his grimoire with a grim look on his face. He didn’t look up.

“I interrogated all of our scouts in the city.” Nathalie reported. It seemed like he was ignoring her at first, but he stopped flipping through the pages. “None of them have seen Adrien. To have slipped past spies in the guards and transportation bureaus, he must be traveling on foot away from Châtdurat.” She glanced to the side. “I have spies watching the Spinal Mountains. He won’t escape to the Ecliptic Sovereignties, at least, so we know he’s still in the Hinterlands.”

“How did Cheng’s daughter cut the bond I had placed on him?” He asked.

She frowned. “I don’t know. There was no evidence left behind at the apartment.” She folded her arms behind her back. “There is also no sign of her in Châtdurat. I assume she is also on foot.”

“Are they together?” There was a hint of an accusation somewhere in his question.

“Unlikely. No agents reported a young girl traveling with a boy or a cat.” She explained before he could ask. “Adrien’s shapeshifting skills are still lackluster. He has only mastered cat.” Nathalie huffed. “I assume that she freed him from the bond, and in exchange, he allowed her to escape.”

Now, he looked up. Gabriel’s eyes were intense. His fingers gripped the edge of the podium, turning red. He threw it against the wall, and then used force magic to flip the table in the sunken part of the room over. Gabriel threw his grimoire at Nathalie’s head, which she dodged by simply moving her face out of the way by a few centimeters.

Without the podium in the way, she could see him clearly. He wore a military jacket that hid most of his outfit and his left arm. It was kept closed by a brooch that glowed with his emotions, now a furious, red hot scarlet. His silver rings were worn on his middle and ring fingers, and his glasses obscured his blue eyes. His platinum blond hair was slicked back and streaked with black.

Within an instant, Gabriel had come to be in front of her, his hand on her neck. Nathalie grabbed it, and she held her breath. After a moment, he let go, and he took a few steps back. He smoothed his hair back and took calming breaths. Gabriel waved his hand in front of a large picture frame on the wall. It turned black, revealing a map of the Hinterlands and the Ecliptic Sovereignties.

He pointed to Châtdurat. “He can’t have gone far if he’s on foot.” He muttered as he stared at the map. His eyes seemed intense. “Maybe we’re lucky…” Gabriel held out his hand, and a moth flew into it. He crushed it in his hands and wiped it on the map. It glowed violet where the moth was squished. The violet glow moved around, like it was trying to find something. It collected west of Châtdurat, glowing brightly. “There. He still has the glamour with him.” Gabriel declared.

“Why would he still be drinking it? Isn’t he more powerful without it?” Nathalie asked.

Gabriel guffawed. “He doesn’t know that.” He said. “He’s probably addicted to it, by now.” He glanced at her. “It works for us, though. If he’s traveling with Cheng’s daughter, this will lead you straight to her.”

“And if he’s not?” Nathalie asked.

“We’re long overdue for a family reunion.” He joked bitterly. Gabriel looked at Nathalie for a long moment. “Go find my son. Bring him back to me, _alive._ ” He glared at the map. “Get him to tell you where Cheng’s daughter went. And then, go after her.”

Nathalie rolled her shoulders and collected her regal composure. “I will.” She started to walk out of the room, catching herself on the threshold. She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll bring him back. I promise.”

Gabriel glanced at her before looking at the map. “I’m going to win this, Sabine.” He muttered. “Your family can’t hide forever.”

 

* * *

 

Adrien wasn’t used to the cold. He knew that the Hinterlands were always cold, but Châtdurat was warm, as there was often steam rising from the grates to heat the streets. Part of him wondered if he was cold because he was technically… _undead._

Adrien cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed on them. His breath was hot, so much so that he could see it. He rubbed his hands together to keep them warm. He pressed them close to his face as he pressed on, his eyes just barely raised to see the road.

He heard someone walking behind him. Adrien glanced to the side, but he didn’t look over his shoulder. He kept walking, though he picked up the pace. So did the person behind him. He started speedwalking, and so did his stalker. Adrien started sprinting as fast as he could, going off the road.

 

* * *

 

Marinette had set up her tent in a grassy area near a river, which was directly across from an abandoned watchtower. She’d been traveling for a while, and between her flight from Nidesouris to resurrecting Adrien, she was emotionally exhausted. She strung twine up around the few trees nearby, and she hung blankets and clothes from it to create a curtain. Nervously, Marinette stripped and bathed in the river.

It was freezing cold, like she expected. She washed dried blood and ash from her skin, and she studied the self-inflicted wounds on her arm. They weren’t even close to healed, but they had scabbed over. She rubbed them gently, regretting ever having done it while longing for the release of it once again.

Marinette sighed. She grabbed her pajamas from a rock next to the river. She changed into black tank top with white spiders on it and a pair of dark magenta shorts that almost looked like they were made of lace. Marinette tried to start a fire to warm herself up. However, she couldn’t get it to spark. Her body was quaking, her right arm felt a few moments from frostbite, and the wind was blowing her things around.

With a frustrated sigh, Marinette collected her things. She put them away and grabbed an apple from the tree. She washed it in the river before biting into it. As she ate, she tried to practice magic. Marinette focused on a stone by the river, trying to use telekinesis. She narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and puffed out her cheeks as she concentrated on lifting the stone. A white glyph circled her hand, and her chest began to glow orange. After a moment, the stone levitated for a few moments off the ground.

She shot up. “I did it!” She exclaimed, and she danced around in a circle giddily. Marinette held her face to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “I was right! The ritual unblocked the magic! I can use sorcery now!” She went to bite into her apple before realizing it wasn’t in her hand. She looked down to see that she had dropped it in her excitement. “Ugh.” She let her shoulders droop as she looked up at the sky.

As she looked at the moon and stars, Marinette wondered about her mother. Her influence was everywhere. Her eyes fell to the watchtower. She could almost imagine her mother conjuring a bow and arrow to defend the position, using her magic to defend the people of the Hinterlands, and she felt a smile spread across her face. It vanished when she realized that the fantasy could never be complete, as she had no idea what her mother even looked like.

Marinette put on a pair of white socks and her boots. She grabbed a black jacket from her suitcase and approached the watchtower. Scavengers had long since picked this place clean. There was nothing left that wasn’t nailed down. There was a plaque, though, and she drew close to read it.

**«Que cette tour brisée soit toujours un mémorial pour les soldats courageux qui ont sacrifié leur vie pour défendre Fémurre et les pays environnants de la dévastation et de l'enfer. Puissions-nous toujours nous souvenir de la bataille de la tour solitaire.»**

_“May this broken tower always be a memorial to the brave soldiers who sacrificed their lives to defend Fémurre and the surrounding countries from devastation and hell. May we always remember the Battle of the Lonely Tower.”_

This was the only thing left over from the war she’d seen besides decades old grudges and a traumatized countryside. Marinette wondered if this was a battle her mother served in. It didn’t mention anyone by name, not even those who had died. She frowned, wishing that Uncle Wang had gotten the chance to talk about her in more detail before he… her breath caught in her throat. Before he died, she thought mournfully.

Marinette pulled her jacket closer to her. She turned to start walking back to camp, but she hadn’t even taken a complete step before someone crashed into her and knocked her to the ground. She was disoriented for a few moments, but when she opened her eyes, she recognized the person who had run her over as Adrien, once again disguised as a human.

“You again!” She said, her voice accusatory.

“Marinette?” He whispered. Adrien almost seemed glad to see her. But then, he panicked. “No! You can’t be here!” He looked around. “Where’s your broomstick? You need to fly away!”

But there was no time for them to go to her camp. A woman rounded the corner of the tower, calm despite how panicked Adrien seemed. Marinette barely needed to look at her to recognize her as Nathalie. “Well, well, well.” She said, slapping her glass wand against her hand like a hickory whip. “I was right. Gabriel’s little ratcatcher found Cheng’s daughter after all.” She said condescendingly.

Marinette pushed Adrien away as she crawled out from under him. “You _led_ her here!” She accused. “I should have _listened_ when she said you’d stab me in the back!”

Adrien shook his head, eyes wide and distressed. “No, I didn’t!” He pleaded. “I didn’t know you were here! I would have—”

“Enough!” Nathalie slashed at air with her wand. Adrien was thrown across the road into a lone tree. The force of impact knocked him out almost immediately. Nathalie stepped forward and pushed Marinette down with her foot. “You might have evaded me in Nidesouris and Châtdurat, but this is the end of the line for you!” She raised her wand high. “Surrender, necromancer!”

Marinette rolled to the side to avoid her spell. She summoned pure force to knock her off balance, which was much easier than she thought it would be, and she scrambled to her feet. Marinette dodged her magic attacks as she hurried to her camp. She was completely prepared to leave everything behind—her clothes, her tent, even Adrien—in favor of finding Atropos and her broom to get as far out of dodge as possible. She only had time to fish her scissors out of her apron pocket when Nathalie used force magic to knock her into the river.

But she didn’t attack right away after that. No, her eyes were focused on one thing—Atropos, which Marinette clung to desperately. She stared at them as Marinette sat up and crawled out of the freezing water. Nathalie glared at her, her breath ragged but not from exhaustion. “Those…” She hissed, her grip growing tight on the glass wand. “Are…” Now, her grip was so tight that the wand shattered, glass sinking into her skin and making her bleed. Nathalie’s eyes turned red and started to bleed as she screamed, “ **MINE!** ”

Marinette scrambled to her feet and barely avoided Nathalie’s blood magic. Her blood circled her like an aura, hot and sinister.

Nathalie created a spear with her blood. She threw it at Marinette. “I gave up everything for the people of Fémurre!” She shouted, creating another spear and throwing it. Marinette nearly lost her balance. “Everything! My home! My family! My _birthright!_ Everything… but those scissors!” She was furious. Marinette had thought she was scary when she had calmly killed the people of Nidesouris, but this… this was something out of a _horror movie!_ “Your bitch mother and her friends stole them from me! Give them **BACK!** ” Nathalie lunged for her. Marinette raised her hands over her head and tried to kick Nathalie off of her.

But it was no use. Nathalie was older and stronger than Marinette, a trained sorceress with decades of experience versus a small town seamstress-turned-necromancer. It was truly no contest. Nathalie claimed Atropos, and immediately a sick grin spread across her face. She stood, pulling Marinette’s jacket off from over her head. She cut open her hand with the scissors, watching as her blood dripped from the blades. Reality seemed to distort around them. She started slashing at the air, each cut making the air scream. The slashes cut through the space between Nathalie and Marinette. When the magic touched Marinette’s skin, it hurt just as though Nathalie had cut her with the scissors. It felt like she had sliced her skin five times!

Marinette screamed, but the slashes just kept coming. She covered her face with her arms, but Nathalie didn’t care. She kept slashing, slicing up Marinette’s arms, chest, stomach, and even the sides of her face. She kicked her, which worked for a moment, but then Nathalie slashed her back. If her goal was death by one thousand cuts, she was getting very close.

Adrien was stirred back to consciousness by Marinette’s screams. At first, he was frightened, but then he saw Nathalie attacking Marinette. He started looking around for anything he could use to distract her, but found nothing. He closed his eyes and tried to think of a spell that would get them both out of this alive—or alive as possible, given the circumstances—but only one came to mind.

He forced himself to stand. He didn’t have much energy, so he would have to do this right on the first try. Adrien took a deep breath and sprinted for Nathalie, getting close to the ground. He knocked her off balance as he ran, and grabbed Marinette without even stopping. Marinette, in turn, grabbed her scissors while her assailant was disoriented.

She scrambled to her feet, unsteady. “You can’t outrun me, Adrien!” Nathalie shouted as she sprinted after him.

“I’m not trying to,” Adrien muttered. He closed his eyes, and his body was absorbed into the ambient shadow. Marinette, being held so close to him, vanished also. By the time Nathalie caught up with where they were, they had completely disappeared, as though they had stepped through a portal into a different plane of existence.

But that wasn’t quite what had happened. If Adrien had not been weakened by the glamour potion, his demon magic _could_ have done something like that, but he _was,_ so all he could do was fall into a realm between the mortal and spiritual planes.

Adrien moved much slower here. He pressed Marinette close to him and backed away, taking refuge inside the Lonely Tower. He cowered there, holding onto her for dear life, as though she was protecting him, not the other way around.

Nathalie searched the area fiercely. She even searched the tower, but since they were on a separate plane, she passed right through them without so much as a ghostly chill. “Ugh! Emilie and her spells. That boy knows too much.” She muttered. She looked around, and she spoke to the air, unaware that he could hear everything she was saying. “I’ll find you, Adrien. And when I do, you’re going to wish you had _never_ followed your mother as she crawled out of the bog.” Nathalie walked away.

Adrien waited until his inhuman hearing could no longer detect Nathalie. Then, he ended the spell, and they materialized back on the mortal plane. Adrien gently placed Marinette on the ground. She had lost a lot of blood and had fallen unconscious. He saw the drenched and ragged bandages on her left arm, and with a hopeful thought, he sprinted for her things in the nearby camp.


	7. Licking Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid Fucking Mistake Ruining Whole Fucking Day

Adrien opened Marinette’s suitcase and started going through the things inside. He was beginning to panic, and he considered ripping up fabric to use as makeshift bandages. He discovered her sewing kit, and found the bandages tucked within. He grabbed them and Atropos.

As he started to unravel the bandages, he realized two things. Firstly, his only experience with wrapping bandages was during martial arts training, and secondly, most of Marinette’s wounds were bleeding through her tattered clothing. To bandage them, he’d have to take her shirt off.

This was not something he felt comfortable doing himself. Adrien shook her gently. “Marinette, wake up!” He said, trying to rouse her. He tapped her cheek with his fingers. “I need you to stay with me!” She scrunched up her nose and furrowed her brows, then swatted his hand away. “There we go. Stay with me, Marinette.” He spun embers around his hand until they turned into lightning, and he shocked her awake.

Marinette shot up like a rocket. She exclaimed, and then convulsed as the pain consumed her. She laid back down. “Where are we?” She asked, her face wide-eyed and frightened.

“We’re still at the Lonely Tower. Nathalie left, but not before she cut you up.” Adrien said. Marinette flinched, and she tried to rub her side. “I have to dress your wounds. Can you help me get your shirt and corset off?” He asked.

Marinette pointed at a nearby boulder. Adrien used force magic to pull it closer. Marinette used it to support herself as she sat up, and she carefully pulled her shirt over her head. Adrien took it from her and tossed it near the river, so it could be washed before it was mended. The color ran from Marinette’s face as he reached for the laces on her corset. “I can mandage bis thy thyself!” She facepalmed. “ _Yii-_ I mean, I non’t deed yelp from hou!” Her hands were shaking as she undid her corset. “I m-mean—”

Adrien shook his head. “Let me help you.” He said, crawling closer.

“ _No! Don’t look at me!_ ” Marinette shouted. He stopped dead in his tracks. Her face turned bright red as she tried to undo the laces. The laces were scarlet, and the corset itself was a much darker blood red. “I can moo die own babages…”

Adrien gently turned her around so her back was facing him. “Here. I’ll wrap from here, so they sit tight against your skin. Is this an okay compromise?” He asked with a smile.

Marinette looked at him from over her shoulder. She blushed and looked back. “Not too tight. We’re trying to stop the bleeding, not break my ribs.” She said.

“Right.” Adrien waited for her to take off her corset before he started to wrap the bandages around. He had to keep them steady with his hand, which meant that for a few wraps, his hand was pressed against her skin. Her skin was cold, almost like the dead, but his face turned red hot, and the first chance he got to remove his hand from her skin, he took it.

Marinette was too busy looking at her bloody torso to notice where his hand was. Her breath shook as they wrapped, and to distract herself, she looked up. “You’re drinking the potion still?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“My father never actually saw me this way. I assumed that it was safer traveling like this.” He said.

She was quiet for a long time. “Why did you stay behind when she left?”

“She was hunting _me,_ not _you._ It was simple bad luck that our paths crossed when they did.” Adrien said, hiding the indignation in his voice poorly.

“You can’t blame me for not trusting you when I can’t even trust you to be honest about what you look like!” Marinette argued. She turned too far and cringed as she aggravated her wound. “ _Aaaagh!_ ” She exclaimed, and Adrien grabbed her arm, as if to comfort her. “I’m sorry, it’s just a little convenient that the only person you ran into is me.”

Adrien nodded. “That is suspicious, I’ll admit, but it wasn’t intentional.” He gently wrapped the small wounds on her neck. She wouldn’t have risked wounds that might have killed her, so these were shallow, meant to cause pain. “I was on the North Road headed to the Hidden Republic when Nathalie tracked me down. I had turned south while trying to lose her when I bumped into you.” He looked around. “You’re headed west?” He asked, carefully putting a different kind of bandage on her facial wounds.

She blushed as she looked at his face. She was, at this point, not completely convinced he wasn’t lying, but he was still very handsome, and his skin was so warm against her own. He rubbed his thumbs against the bandages, so the adhesive would stick to her face without peeling. Marinette looked away to try to keep her cool. “Your bother noodn’t nave any scouts pawsted that may. Not dif he had _you_ watching the North Road.” She argued. “Bow did dee bind doo?”

Adrien took her face in his hands and looked at her. He frowned and raised one of his eyebrows. “Did… you hit your head when Nathalie knocked you to the ground?” He asked.

She hadn’t, but that was a better cover story than her twisted tongue. “I bite have a con-cushion.” She said with a grin.

He sighed and shook his head, smiling softly. “I’m not sure about that, but I am sure that my father hid some sort of bloodhound spell on me.” He theorized. He started wrapping her right arm, his eyes tracing the black veins. “I haven’t had time to look.”

Adrien took her hand and started to wrap her fingers in bandages. His face turned pensive, and she realized that he’d wrapped them like a martial artist would. Then, he cut the bandage and moved to work on the other arm. Marinette yanked her arm away and nursed it. “I can do this one.” She said. She looked at it. “You should go through your things and try to find an enchantment in your clothing. I’m going to look for some alchemical reagents to—” Marinette tried to stand, but her body gave out underneath her. She screamed, and Adrien held onto her once more.

“You’re not in any condition to move, Marinette.” He said.

She looked away. “Well, what am I supposed to do? Wait for someone to find us? That could take days! Few enough people travel this road with the trolley in place.” She said. He frowned as he considered this. Marinette rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to trust him again, not after everything that had happened, but while she was in too much pain to even move, she really had no choice. “Why don’t we switch jobs? Give me your backpack, and I’ll search for the spell. You go gather the ingredients I need to make a potion to ease my pain.”

“It still sounds like you’re doing most of the work.” He said.

“Are you a witch, Adrien? Can you weave enchantments and brew potions?” She asked.

“I…” He paused. “No, I can’t.”

“Well, there you go, then.” She said. Adrien stood to remove his backpack. He placed it on the ground next to her. “Hand me my suitcase.” He obliged. Marinette dug through it until she found her mortar, pestle, drawing pen, and design book. She passed Adrien the book and pen. “You’ll need to find specific plants to help my pain. I need a blooming rose. Any color will do, but red and pink work best. I’ll need several garlic cloves, preferably ones that smell very strong. Are you writing this down?”

“I have a very good memory,” He reassured her.

“Write it down, please.” She ordered. She paused so he could scribble down what she’d already listed. “Poppies are a must. I saw some up the road that way while I was looking for a place to camp.” She considered for a moment. “I could use turmeric, if you can find it. Ginger, too, but I doubt that’s anywhere nearby. Oh, and there’s hanging vines in the tower that might be useful.”

Adrien nodded as he wrote. “Anything else?” He asked.

Marinette smiled. “No. Thank you.”

Adrien smiled back, and he walked away, using his staff as a walking stick. Marinette’s smile vanished as he walked, and she started to go through his clothing. She didn’t know if she would actually find anything, just like she didn’t know if he was coming back, but if he did, she didn’t want him to find her not having held up her part of the bargain.

 

* * *

 

Adrien had gathered most of what Marinette had requested, with the exception of ginger and the rose. He didn’t expect to find ginger, but he was unhappy that the rose was evading him. He was far off the beaten path now, not wanting to disappoint her. She hadn’t come right out to said it, but she wasn’t subtle when she’d given him the list. Marinette didn’t trust him, but he was sure that this was a way he could prove himself.

He spotted a grove of tall trees surrounded by thorn bushes. He pushed his way into the brush. Adrien had to stand on his toes to see the area around him. As he pushed further in, fog surrounded him. His hearing grew sharper to compensate for his poor eyesight.

As he searched the grove, he heard a voice in the darkness. “…it's only been a few nights. There has been no word from the south.” A man said.

A woman spoke now, but her voice was distorted. They were speaking over a channel. “I know that. It just worries me. We can’t exactly send word to ask why there’s a delay.”

The man agreed. “We’ll turn south after this. We haven’t been there in a long time, so it should be…”

Adrien tried to ignore the conversation as the voice got quieter. He got on his knees to search the thorns for a rose. Finally, he found a rose bush. He grinned and crawled towards it, admiring the dark crimson petals. As Adrien reached for it, so did the hand of a large man.

Adrien yelped and jumped back, abandoning the roses. He looked up at a half-elven man who seemed just as startled to see him. He was tall and wide, his brown hair styled into a faux hawk and his mustache groomed neatly. He wore a leather jacket with metal alchemical symbols dangling from the collar, a black tee shirt, and dark jeans. His boots had pockets with clocks on them, and his gloves had rivets on the knuckles. He seemed exhausted, with dark bags under his pale green eyes, but he still smiled. “You took me by surprise.” He offered his hand to him. “I was just collecting ingredients for my spells.”

Adrien didn’t take his hand. “Does that include these roses?” He asked, pointing at them.

The man looked at them, and then back at Adrien. “I sure was planning on it.” He said with a smile and a shrug.

Adrien shifted so he was on his knees. “Please, listen! I need those roses. My… my friend, she was attacked on the road. She can’t even move! She’s a witch, and she can brew a potion that will help her get back on her feet so she can get to Maudite, but she can’t make it without those roses!”

“If your friend is hurt, she’ll benefit from a healer.” The man offered.

“She already doesn’t trust me! I can’t bring a stranger to her!” He argued.

The man considered this. He picked the roses carefully, and then handed them to Adrien. “There will always be roses. I can find others. Take these to your friend.” He said. He reached into a pocket of his boots. “Take these, too. They’re dried rose petals, the last of my supply.” He smiled. “Place one on your tongue to ease your pain.”

Adrien accepted the gifts. “Thank you.” He said. He scrambled to his feet. “This means a lot to me.” He said, a sincere smile on his face.

The man looked away briefly. “Though, perhaps in return, you could answer a question for me.” Adrien felt his blood run cold, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “How can she be your friend if she doesn’t trust you?”

Adrien considered this, and he frowned sadly. “I guess she isn’t.” He admitted, but then he smiled weakly. “But I want her to be.”

He nodded, and then hit his shoulder. “Go on, then. You’d best get back before she gets worse.” Adrien moved to push through the brush. “And be cautious on the roads.”

Adrien smiled. “Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Marinette tossed aside another of Adrien’s shirts. She’d been examining them for at least half an hour, yet had found no traces of a bloodhound spell. She started on a pair of his pants, wondered bitterly if his father had hidden it in his underwear, and then blushed madly as she realized that she would never be able to check them herself. She muttered quietly as she searched the stitching for an enchantment.

Adrien came back from the same direction he’d left from, carrying a bundle of plants in his arms. He smiled as he got close, and he sat down next to her. “I found everything you asked for but the ginger.” He said. He moved to grab her mortar and pestle. “Do you want me to start mixing the ingredients?”

Marinette handed him his clothes. “Actually, why don’t you keep going through these?” She suggested. He handed her the ingredients and started to look at the stitching. Marinette watched him as she started to crush the ingredients. She looked at the mixture in front of her and hid a smile. “I honestly didn’t think you were going to come back.” She whispered.

Adrien looked up. “Of course I was.” He opened a pouch and revealed a dried rose petal. “A witch I met in the woods gave me these. I think it’s elven magic. It’s supposed to ease your pain. Put one on your tongue!” Marinette glared at him, unimpressed. Adrien put one on his and smiled.

She didn’t smile back. “Rose already told me that cambions are immune to most poisons. That proves nothing.” Marinette said.

Adrien sighed. “I guess that’s true.” He looked mildly upset as he kept looking for the bloodhound spell.

They sat in silence for a bit, until Marinette heard something vibrate. She started to go through her suitcase and spotted the mirror. “Rose and Juleka are trying to call me! Quick, hide!” Adrien scrambled to his feet and hid inside her tent. She sighed, frustrated, and then opened the channel. Rose appeared, beaming proudly as she stood in front of her alchemy laboratory. Marinette grinned as Rose’s face fell suddenly. “Rose! What a surprise! What’s—”

“Why are you all bandaged up?! You look like a _mummy!_ ” Rose exclaimed. “Did something happen?!”

“I was ambushed by…” Marinette glanced at Adrien. “…by goblins. Don’t worry, though! I’m alive, and they’re not. Plus I’m having goblin ham for dinner.”

Rose leaned against her lab and sighed. She waved her hand in front of her face. “I swear, one more shenanigan like this and I’m taking you home and tying you up in Luka’s room.” She teased. She pushed against the table to stand up straight. “Anyway, I have news. Maybe you’ll find it useful, maybe you won’t, but it tells us a little bit about our enemy.”

“I’m all ears.” She said.

“So, you remember that we learned Adrien was drinking those potions to appear human?” Rose asked. Marinette nodded. “I took a vial of it home to examine the reagents, and I learned something interesting.” She grinned. “There are too many.”

“Every reagent in a potion serves a purpose. There is no such thing as too many.”

“Two of the reagents aren’t infused properly, one more deceptive than the other.” Rose explained. She used tweezers to pick up a smooshed leaf. “Mint is used in healing salves. It would be counterproductive to include it in a spell that weakens cambions. I realized that it was added to improve the taste of the product. It caught my attention.”

Marinette shrugged. “So Adrien’s father tried to get it to go down easy. Why did that get your attention?”

“Because it was still terrible, first of all. You can’t even taste the mint.” She criticized. “Second of all, it got me searching for other inactive ingredients. I found this.” Rose used the tweezers to grab something else. Marinette leaned forward. “It’s a moth wing. Specifically antheraea polyphemus, or a Polyphemus moth. The same kind that Nathalie replaced her heart with.”

“So, he has a signature. Polyphemus moths.”

“Yes, but that’s not where the interesting part ends.” She added. “Firstly, with this in mind, I can tell you that he makes his home somewhere in the frozen bog near Veràsoie. It’s the only place where he could have a steady supply of these moths.” She frowned. “Secondly… the wings have an enchantment on them. It’s a watchdog spell.”

Marinette sat up. She glanced at Adrien, who also seemed intrigued by this. “Is that similar to a bloodhound spell?”

“Almost exactly, but they’re more tailored for actual surveillance. The picture wouldn’t be clear, but he can spy through them.”

“There probably isn’t much of a view inside of Adrien’s guts.”

“No, but if he added this to the potion, it was likely to track him.” Rose said. “I would like to think optimistically, that he did this so he could send reinforcements if he needed to track a particularly dangerous agent near the border.” She sighed heavily. “But I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of cambion parents. This was intended to track where he went, who he went with, and for how long.”

“Oh, no,” Marinette looked at her hands. “My uncle hated that I loved magic, but even he wouldn’t have stooped to stalking my blood.”

Rose nodded. “We have to assume that Adrien is just a pawn, and if he’s a pawn, you’ll meet more powerful players. That’s just the rules of the genre.”

“Are you safe? You’re only six kilometers from Veràsoie.”

“Julie is working on that. Enchanted traps, bells and whistles, the whole shebang. But I don’t think much will come our way.” She smiled. “This house is huge and faces the road, but if his base is close by, it's hardly a boon. Just another drain on men and resources.”

“Thank you, Rose. I’ll keep an eye out for the moths you mentioned.”

“And destroy them! Can be too careful with traitors.” She said. She smiled warmly and severed the connection.

Marinette held the mirror in her hand for a few moments before looking at Adrien. “I don’t imagine I need to summarize that for you.” She said.

Adrien stood up. “I knew my father was keeping tabs on me, but I thought it was the bind.” He said, he walked to the river so he could watch as the reflection distorted his appearance. He rubbed his neck. “I thought that the glamour was supposed to protect me from the hunters.”

“Maybe it was? Two birds, one tone, yes?” Marinette suggested.

“He wants to kill you! Don’t defend him.” Adrien snapped. He stormed over to her. “Give me my backpack!” He ordered. Marinette handed it to him. He dug around inside until he found the box protecting the vials. “I’ve had enough of this!” He grabbed a vial and smashed it on a rock. It shattered, exploding green liquid everywhere.

Adrien smashed every vial he had. Marinette could see the anger in his eyes. It was hard to fake, and she recognized it, at least somewhat. If someone had told her that Uncle Wang could have removed her mark at any point so she could practice magic, she might have broken something, too.

Adrien started packing up his clothing. “Guess we don’t have to keep looking for the bloodhound spell.” He muttered.

“That’s not enough, Adrien.” Marinette said. He stopped dead in his tracks. “The potion is still inside of you. He can still track you.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do about that?!” He snapped. He had never shown anger at her, and she knew that he wasn’t upset with her. He was aggravated, and she was the closest target.

She sighed. “I doubt you want me to repeat how I got it out the _first_ time, so…” Marinette cringed. “...you’ll have to purge.”

“…what does that mean?”

Her cringe grew more intense. “You gotta throw up,” She said.

Adrien chuckled bitterly. He put his head in his hand. “You know, I’ve done a lot today. I was running for my life, I bandaged a half naked girl who _literally_ killed me last night, I went digging through the dirt, and I learned some terrible things about my father.” He complained.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, no!” He said, waving her off. He looked off in the distance with an exasperated look on his face. “This might as well happen.”

Adrien excused himself and crossed the road. Marinette grabbed her pajama shirt. She flinched as she tried to pull it on, every part of her body aching. She then began to work on finishing her potion. Marinette glanced repeatedly over her shoulder, not wanting to stare but curious as to his next step. “How long do you think it’ll take Nathalie to—”

Her thought process was interrupted by Adrien puking loudly in the bushes. She shuddered and tried to pretend that she hadn’t heard it. Adrien returned a few moments later, the potion slowly starting to fade. His fangs were the only things back. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?” He asked as he rinsed out his mouth.

“How long do you think it’ll take Nathalie to report to your father?”

“I don’t know. She’s probably searching the surrounding areas before she heads back. We should move before she doubles back.” He advised.

Marinette scoffed. “Why should I trust you to take me anywhere? You kidnapped me last time.”

“You’re too badly injured to get anywhere on your own. At the very least, let me take you to a healer in Maudite.” He said. He packed up camp and helped her collect her things. Then, Adrien helped her get on her broom, and he walked next to it. “I understand why you don’t trust me. I don’t think I would trust me, either.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’d throw up in the bushes to sell a con.” Marinette joked. He chuckled. She smiled. “I trust you more easily like this, too.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“In your cambion form.” She said. “Now that I know you’re a cambion, the other one feels like a lie. Like you’re hiding something.”

Adrien chuckled. “You’re hiding plenty, too.”

“Only out of necessity!” She argued. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s some crazy guy in a bog literally trying to murder me!”

Adrien laughed. “Alright, alright. That’s fair enough.” He smiled at her, and her face turned pink. She looked away, which he took as a sign that she was uncomfortable. “We can reach Maudite soon if we hurry.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey dont forget to look at the picture i drew for the first chapter. i drew that. it looks nice


	8. Ancestral Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I Die, I’m Going To Haunt The Fuck Out Of You People

Unlike most cities, Maudite wasn’t protected by walls and iron. The road simply led into the town, running parallel to the trolley line. Street lamps glowed ominously while fog from the road rolled in. People watched them, but the fog was too dense for Adrien and Marinette to see their faces. Adrien walked slowly next to the broom, his hand keeping it steady so she didn’t fall off into the mud.

“I’m feeling better. I should try walking now.” Marinette said, smiling up at him.

Adrien smiled back, but weakly. “We should find a healer first.” He suggested. He dragged the broom to the side of the street and tried to read the road signs. It was still too foggy. Adrien summoned a flame in his hand and used it to burn away some of the fog. His face twisted pensively as he tried to make sense of the narrow roads around them, and Marinette looked at him. The potion had faded away entirely in the time that they had been walking. He caught her staring and smiled. “What?”

Marinette held up her hands. “Nothing!” She said nervously. However, as her face grew hot, she lost her balance and fell off the broom. Adrien tried to catch her, but she’d already hit the ground by the time he dug his class into her wrist, aggravating a wound. Marinette stood and shook her head. “I’m fine! Please, let me walk.”

“Marinette—” He tried to protest.

She shook her head. “No, the potion I made has taken effect. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Marinette bid the broom to fly higher, and she used it to support herself as she walked. “Honestly, my legs are fine. It’s everything else that hurts.”

Adrien folded his arms behind him and watched her as she walked. She was moving fairly slowly, but on her own. He looked up, then around, and then he smiled. “You seem to find trouble a lot, don’t you?”

Marinette frowned. “I do not!” She protested. “So far, half the trouble I’ve found is _your_ fault!”

“That’s… fair.” He admitted. He refused to let this bog him down. “Anyway, what I meant to say is…” his voice faltered. Marinette looked up at him, but he looked away. “…is that the healer is just up ahead. You shouldn’t mention Atropos to them. Wars were fought over that kind of weapon.”

Marinette nodded. Adrien held the door open for them as they entered. She worried that it would be busy—after all, she had spent nearly three days mortified by the dead in Nidesouris—but it seemed like a fairly slow day. Only a few people were present other than the staff, and none seemed too terribly injured. Adrien helped her to sit down and took her broom.

As they waited, he instinctively scanned the room. Like most buildings, it was dark, but it seemed like it was carved out of an ancient tree. The walls looked and felt like bark, and the room smelled of wood. The waiting area was bordered on both sides by rooms, but the opening to the right was much more narrow. From Adrien’s position, he could only see a little bit of the room. The left was open, better lit, and filled with three rows of strange pods. They looked almost like tree trunks growing around steel bathtubs.

Eventually, a healer approached them. After asking Marinette a few questions, she took them into the room with the pods. Marinette leaned on Adrien instead of her broom. He gently took her arms and avoided her eyes. “Wait here. I’ll have the witches make up a potion for you.” She said. Adrien grabbed a chair as Marinette sat on the steps leading into the pod. The healer returned, and she emptied a potion into the water. “Climb inside. This will stop the bleeding, ease the pain, and turn your wounds into scars, but it’ll be a long time before the scars fade.” She helped Marinette into the pod. “Pain is a temporary emotion, but scars are a memory given flesh.”

Marinette untied her pigtails and leaned back into the water. Her hair floated around her like a dark halo. “I’ve never had healing done. What will it feel like?”

“It’s going to tingle a bit, but don’t worry. I’m going to put you to sleep for most of it.” The healer said. She looked at Adrien. “You may want your cambion companion to wait a bit farther away. His demonic aura might interfere with the spell and give you nightmares.”

Adrien stood. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” He said, a hint of sadness in his glowing eyes.

Marinette caught his arm. His heart skipped a beat for it. “No, don’t. Stay until I wake, please.” Adrien smiled and sat back down.

The healer nodded. “Very well. I understand not wanting to be alone.” She stood at the side of the pod and placed her hands on it.

The water glowed for half a moment before it turned black. Marinette closed her eyes and listened to it flow around her. It wasn’t deep enough to drown in, at least not with two people watching her to make sure she didn’t roll over, but she felt like she was floating in nothing. Soon, she had fallen asleep…

 

* * *

 

The vision came in flashes. It didn’t quite match up. One moment, it was a burning battlefield, littered with corpses, the next it was a throne room with coagulating blood dripping down stone steps. Then it would flash to a dark forest, fallen branches obscuring the dirt road, but a moment before it was a craggy pass through the mountains with a bright blue sky. The colors shifted from red to green to purple to grey, but one thing remained constant—the unfamiliar feeling of warmth. Not like a fire, but more like… an oven, still hot from baking bread.

_This war means something._ I have to protect these people! _I don’t want to take your food._ It’s our job to help people, not imprison noncombatants! _It’s not the first time he’s made me wonder like this._ We can’t retreat! _If we lose Fort Gossamer, we lose Fémurre!_ I won’t let you destroy this kingdom! _The soldier said something strange to me._ I’m going to Eris. _Politics shouldn’t be a popularity contest, but King Aldéric sure isn’t winning any besides._ We need a way into Castle Inclementia! _She killed her own father in cold blood!_ Can we even trust her, Gabriel? _She’s in possession of one of the most powerful weapons this side of the Spinal Mountains!_

**Trust isn’t easy to come by.**

The vision changed, like falling into nothing.

 

* * *

 

Marinette shot up, water splashing all around. The healer tried to calm her down, as did Adrien. Her breath was heavy, and her face was wild. The healer pushed her gently, saying something that sounded calming and distant, but she wasn’t willing to listen. “Let go of me! No!” Marinette pushed her away and climbed out of the pod.

“Miss, your wounds are not yet healed!” She argued.

“I don’t care!” She grabbed her things and left the building. Adrien glanced at the healer before chasing her.

He caught up with her quickly. “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed…”

Marinette turned. “No, it isn’t that. I mean, yes, I did have a nightmare, but that’s not why I’m upset.” She rubbed her forehead. “I had a vision, I think. Of the war.” She shook her head, her fingers picking at her soaking pajamas. “I saw colors, and places in the Hinterlands, and I heard this _voice!_ ”

“Okay, calm down. Let’s walk through it.” He said. “Have you had visions before?”

“No, but my magic was bound. It wasn’t until I resurrected you that the silencing finally ended, and I haven’t slept since then.” She said. She was pacing. “I have no way to know if this is something environmental, or if I was capable of it the entire time, and just didn’t know it.”

“Well, what did you see? Just places, or did you see people?”

“Just places, but one of them was bloody, like someone had been murdered.” Her legs faltered, and she almost fell. She caught herself and continued to pace.

“What else? You mentioned a voice?” He grabbed her shoulders and stopped her pacing. “Enough.”

Marinette held her head. “Yes, but it was like a dream… I can’t remember everything it said. There was only one—or maybe it was two—but it was like snapshots of different conversations. It wasn’t cohesive.” She looked up. “I remember hearing… Fort Gossamer, Eris, Castle Inclementia, and… that king you mentioned. Aldéric.”

Adrien folded his arms as he considered this. “Eris is one of the arrondissements in the Necropolis. Fort Gossamer is in Cercueil, or just past it. Vanguards were posted there during the war.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Castle Inclementia is on a cliff overlooking Mouerrise. My mother once said there’s only one way in and even fewer ways out.”

She tapped her lips as she tried to think. “That wasn’t everything. What am I forgetting?” Her face lit up. “I remember! It was another name!” She frowned. “Do you know anyone named Gabriel?”

Adrien’s jaw dropped, and his eyes were wide and sad. He nodded. “That’s my father’s name.”

Marinette didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ve never heard that name before, so this confirms that this wasn’t a dream. It was a vision.” She said.

Adrien chuckled. “You’ve never met anyone named Gabriel?” He teased.

She ignored him. “The question remains, is this my own magic? Or something else?”

“I feel like it’s a fairly common name.”

She grabbed his face. “Focus, Adrien!” She shouted. Adrien instinctively covered her hands with his own, but it was momentary, and he disguised it by pulling them off. She was too preoccupied to notice the blush on his cheeks. “What if this isn’t in my skill set? What if…” she paused, as if this theory not only carried weight but deep meaning, “…what if it’s my mother, trying to help me from beyond the grave? Because her seal failed and I’m in danger.”

“Your magic is identical to hers.” Adrien said. “If you have the ability to see into the past, then so did she. If she didn’t, then you might be right about it being a message.” He looked around. “Do you have any family you could ask about this?”

“No, only Uncle Wang, and Nathalie killed him.” Her eyes lit up. “Wait! I’m a necromancer! I can’t raise him unless I have his body, but I might be able to call his ghost back!” She bounced as she tried to think. “Come on, Marinette! What do you need for a séance?”

She dashed around the Maudite Marketplace, Adrien following her as best he could. She purchased white chalk, black candles and a Masonite spirit board. Her soaking wet bandages and pajamas were attracting a lot of attention, and Adrien desperately tried to get her to take his jacket.

She ignored him again. “Now all we need is a dark place with a flat surface.”

“I have a suggestion. It might be totally out there, but—” Adrien threw his hands out to either side. “how about literally anywhere in the Hinterlands? The whole continent is dark!”

“Okay, first of all, keyword ‘flat surface.’” Marinette quipped. “Second of all, it needs to be darker. Void of the moon or street lamps.” Marinette scanned the area, trying to find an acceptable location. She ducked into a narrow alley.

Adrien rolled his eyes but followed her. He had to walk sideways through the alley. “Um, you know, I didn’t mean to upset you earlier!” He said.

“You haven’t upset me tonight,” she said, confused.

Adrien blinked. “Well… good then!” He was quiet before taking a deep breath. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking, you and I have a common goal in avoiding my father!” He paused for half a moment. “And it benefits people who have common goals to work together!”

After looking through a window, Marinette tried to open a door. She felt around to dig through her apron pocket before remembering she was in her pajamas. She groaned and looked at him. “Can you pull a lockpick out of my sewing kit?”

He hesitated. “Um, sure.” He dug around in her suitcase before passing her a set of lockpicks.

Marinette used the lockpicks to open the door. It hit the wall harsh, and it caused a waterfall of dust and debris to land in the threshold. “This place is perfect!” She said, stepping over the debris.

Adrien shook his head. He followed her into the murky room, shuddering slightly at the close quarters. “I’m sure that I’m probably the last person that you would want to go with you, but I know that I can help you.” He said. He counted on his fingers. “I’m a gifted sorcerer, and I’m a trained swordsman. I know things about history, and geography, and more importantly, I know how my father operates.” He realized that she had stopped moving to investigate a large room, so he slid against the wall so he could stand in front of her. “I can help you.”

She frowned. “I thought you said you were headed towards the Hidden Republic.” She said as she pushed past him. He was actually impressed that she’d been paying attention, as he’d been half convinced he was talking to a brick wall. “I’m going south towards Mouerrise after this.” She closed the wispy curtains in the room, though they ripped in her hands. She started drawing the glyphs on the floor, the chalk knocking up dust. She covered her mouth. “Or wherever Uncle Wang suggests will help me follow in Mother’s footsteps.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Adrien asked. “Your goal should be to avoid my father like the plague. He’s going to be watching places where she once frequented.”

“Maybe, but if there’s anything left behind that might help me, either to avoid or defeat him, I need to know it.” She said.

Adrien paused. “Do you intend to kill my father?”

She stopped drawing the glyph to look at him. “Only as a last resort. He’s much older than me, and clearly an accomplished mage. He would destroy me without a second thought, unless I become stronger.”

“He’s ruthless and willing to do anything. He might not give you a choice.”

“Would it bother you if I did?” She asked.

“I… no, I suppose not.” He sighed. “It’s just an unpleasant thought. I don’t want to think of him being hurt.” He crossed his arms. “After all, he is my father. Wouldn’t you feel the same?”

“I’d like to say so,” she said, “but because of yours, I never knew mine.” Marinette ignored him to finish her work. The inner glyph was a circle pressed almost against the outer circle, near the windows. The cardinal directions were marked by chalk and candles, and the space between them was written in demonic script. “As for my great uncle, he’s already dead, or we wouldn’t be doing this.”

Adrien didn’t respond.

“Sit across from me. Give me your hands.” She commanded as she sat down and crossed her legs. Adrien did as he was told. Marinette clasped their hands together, closing her eyes and focusing her magical energy. After a moment, Adrien mimicked her. Her markings began to glow white, as did her eyes, and it ominously highlighted her eyelashes. Her chest began to glow orange again. “Spirits from the world of endless night, move among us. Dear Cheng Wang, follow dim light, and join us in good faith and open hearts.”

The smoke in the room started to shift. Marinette’s icy skin grew colder, but when Adrien opened his eyes to pull his hand back, she held it tighter to not break the circle. The smoke gathered in front of them, and soon it took the shape of a man. The details were fuzzy, and nothing stood out but two glowing golden eyes, but it was undeniably person-shaped.

“Xiao Netta, why are you all wet?” A familiar, if ethereal, voice asked.

“Uncle Wang!” She exclaimed, her voice shaking. It was Adrien’s turn to hold tighter, keeping her hands still as she tried to embrace the smoke. “Oh, Uncle! I’m so sorry! I left you to be killed by that fiend!”

Uncle Wang’s presence changed. It was less guarded, more open. “You only did as you were told to do. You’re alive, and your power is still your own.” He said. “Sometimes sacrifices must be made in the name of survival.” He looked her over. “You’ve been hurt. What happened?”

Marinette felt her face grow hot. “Never mind all that!” She said. “I have to ask you something important!” He tilted his head. “Did Mother have… visions? Of the past?”

“Visions?”

“I was put to sleep while getting healing done, and I saw… I don’t know what I saw.” She muttered. “But I need to know if this was my magic growing stronger, or if she’s trying to send me a message from beyond!”

Uncle Wang considered this. “I did not possess the kind of magic that she did. The true limits of her power are… _were_ a mystery to me. Maybe even to herself.” He said. “Maybe she could see the past, but it seems more likely that the broken veil is reacting to your unique magical signature, giving you access to her memories.” He looked at the window. “If she were to heal in a place that you had an impact on, like Nidesouris, she might… she might have seen your memories too.”

He seemed sad. Marinette hid a frown. “Then she would know that I was happy, Uncle.” She said, barely a lie in a situation such as this. Especially in hindsight. “Are there other places that might have these memories? Other weak spots in the veil?”

“Only places that were affected deeply by the war. So much death in one place at one time is a terrible thing.” He said.

“She must have known that the seal would eventually fail.” Adrien spoke now. “Did she ever tell you what to do if it did?”

“No. I was her last resort.” He explained. “She, her husband and I were the only people capable of removing the seal. Even _Gina_ wasn’t trusted with the secret.” He said. “If I ever heard word that the traitor was sending forces to or near Nidesouris, I was supposed to pack up everything and return to the Hidden Republic with Marinette.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t have agents there.”

“If she knew there were no agents there, why didn’t she send me there in the first place?” Marinette demanded.

“She told me once that she wanted you to grow up under a million stars…” Wang reached for Marinette, but his hand passed through her like only smoke could. The gesture was kind, but empty. “To know and to love this land, as she did.”

Marinette sighed. “They weren’t always in hiding. Where did my parents live before Gabriel started hunting them?”

“The Necropolis. Your father ran a business there, I believe.” Uncle Wang shook his head. “But, xiao Netta, _please._ Do _not_ go there.” He begged. “Go to Yinshui, in the Hidden Republic. Your ah-ma will keep you safe. She can even teach you about your magic. It is _not safe_ in the Hinterlands!”

“I understand, Uncle.” She said, avoiding his eyes.

“I love you so very much, xiao Netta.” Uncle Wang said. “Please, be safe.”

“I love you too.” She broke the circle to hug him, but in breaking the circle, the séance ended. She ended up grasping smoke as it dispersed and floated up out of her reach. Marinette watched as it escaped through her fingers, and she closed her fingers on her palm. “Thank you.”

She stood and started to pick up after the ritual. Adrien helped her by wiping away the glyph. He stood and stretched. “So I guess that means you’re headed to the Hidden Republic too, huh!” He said, rolling his shoulders. He smirked. “Since I’m headed that way anyway, I don’t see any harm in us going together.”

Marinette didn’t reply. Judging by her face, she was lost in thought. She stepped into a side room, changing her soaking bandages and pajamas. She pulled on a black shirt with silver frog buttons, a deep magenta skirt, and her signature stockings and boots. She was still sore, so she needed Adrien to help her with her hair, bodice and apron. As they left the building, she added leather bands to her right arm, and she added a golden pendant with a crescent moon facing the earth.

They squeezed out of the alley. Adrien watched her as she tried to balance everything she owned on her broomstick. She had changed so much since they’d first met. Even her outfit seemed less naïve. Being attacked and hunted at every turn didn’t help her disposition, he supposed. They started to walk again, only for him to realize that her footsteps were getting farther away from his own.

He spun around. Marinette was walking in the wrong direction. “Wait! Where are you going?” He demanded. Marinette turned to look at him. “Yinshui is that way. The Hidden Republic is that way!” He pointed towards a distant mountain range.

“Yes, but Cercueil and the Necropolis are _that_ way!” She pointed towards the open plain.

“You told your uncle you were going to stay with your grandmother!”

“No, I told him that I understood that the Hinterlands are dangerous! I never told him I would leave them!” She argued.

“So you’re just going to disrespect the wish of a dead man?” He asked.

“If it means finding out how my parents died, I’ll take that chance!” She frowned. “Maybe I can even…” She turned around and waved him off. “Whatever. Go to the Hidden Republic, or the Summerlands, or the Underworld, or wherever. I’m going south.”

Adrien watched her go. Then, he jogged to catch up, and followed about four steps behind. Marinette heard his feet, mimicking her stride but a bit behind. When she stopped, he stopped. And when she started again, so did he.

She spun around again. “What are you doing?” She asked.

He didn’t seem to have a good answer for that. “I… am also going south now.” He said.

“Are you following me?”

Adrien scoffed. “No!” He said unconvincingly. “I… am going to the Underworld, like you suggested.” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that the entrance to the Underworld isn’t in this direction?” He folded his arms across his chest.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and only stared at him with a blank expression. “Is it?” She asked.

After a brief moment, Adrien closed his eyes. “No!”

She grinned and stormed forward. “Go away, Adrien. I don’t have the energy for your foolishness.”

He chased after her. “Marinette, wait!” He called out. She ignored him. “Please, just listen!” He rolled his eyes and focused his magic. He vanished into the shadow and reappeared in front of her, causing her to stumble. He raised his hands. “Please, _please,_ hear me out!”

She crossed her arms and stopped walking, but she said nothing.

“I’ve wasted a lot of my breath trying to get you to believe I can help you, but honestly, that’s not why I’m following you.” He admitted. “I don’t know what my father is going to do to me if he captures me. And the truth is, I’m scared to find out.” He looked deep into her eyes. “The fact is, I am much safer with you than I am in my own. And so are you! You know that, or you wouldn’t have let me come all this way.”

She looked away.

“Please, Marinette. Let me come with you.”

Marinette looked down. She was quiet for a long time, her arms folded across her chest as she considered. She looked around, tapping her lips, a sign she was deep in thought. Then, she let her arms fall as she looked up at the sky. “Ugh, I must either be absolutely crazy or genuinely suicidal.” She said.

He smiled cautiously. “Does that mean…?”

“Yes, you can come with me, but _don’t_ make me regret it!” She said.

Adrien air punched in an unfamiliar, goofy fashion. “Yes!” He shouted, catching the attention of the passersby. His entire face had lit up, like his entire day had just gone from zero to one hundred in a single moment. “Do you like music? I’ll bet there are some bards in the taverns. I can sing, too!” He said, speaking a mile a minute. “Do you want me to tutor you in magic? I know how tips on how to master elemental summoning. You should learn water or nature magic! I’ll bet my last gold tooth that you’ll have a gift for it.”

She held her broomstick closer to her chest. “Rose and Juleka are going to have a field day with this.” She muttered as Adrien kept on talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 is now illustrated, im going to try to put an illustration on each chapter


	9. Stareater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girlfriend, Girlfriend’s Brother Look Way Too Much Alike

“How did she find us?! Which one of ya landlubbers _snitched?!_ ”

Anarka’s voice carried across Liberty, shaking the walls. Eight year old Juleka flinched, desperately trying to wipe pained tears out of her big brown eyes. Her brown hair, as she hadn’t yet dyed it, hung long, but was pulled over her shoulder. She was shivering, her back exposed as blood ran down her spine. Anarka’s voice began to fade, but even small sounds spooked her.

A rag made contact with the wounds on her back. Juleka yelped and leaned forward, shivering harder. “It’s just me, Julie.” Her older brother Luka calmed her. “Just me.” He ran the rag over her skin, neither one saying anything. “It was smart of you to hide.”

“It didn’t do any good!” She looked over her shoulder. He was ten, his blue eyes soft and his hair naturally black. His black shirt had silver stars, and his jacket was tossed to the side so the sleeves wouldn’t get wet. He frowned at her.

He didn’t say much else. He kept rubbing the blood off, trying to get the healing salve to stick to her skin. They were both sitting on the floor, feeling the waves rock the boat. They didn’t move, not even when Anarka burst into the room.

Captain Anarka Couffaine was an older woman. When she had given birth to Juleka, her once vibrant orange hair had already started to gray, and now, there were only patches of it left. Her black captain’s long coat was wrapped tight around her waist with a red and gold piece of fabric, and her studded white pants were tucked into tall leather boots. “Aaargh! Damned mutineers! _Filthy dogs!_ I’ll tie ’um up in chains and drown ’um like a mudmouse!” She grabbed a hairbrush from the dresser and threw it across the room.

Luka and Juleka both flinched. It wasn’t often that Anarka was angry, so neither of them really knew what to do. Juleka shuddered while Luka kept tending to her wounds. Anarka broke two more things before screaming again.

“Heartless _bitch!_ She thinks she can board _my_ fucking city?” Anarka grabbed the mirror and tore it off the wall. Juleka cried when it hit the floor, and she spun around to hug her brother.

Anarka was too furious to notice. Luka helped Juleka put her shirt back on, an oversized tee shirt with a graphic on it. He held her while she cried, both in pain and fear. “M’an,” He said, his voice quiet. She ignore him. “M’an!” Luka said louder, holding her closer. When this, too, went unanswered, Luka raised his voice louder than he ever had. “M’an, Julie’s been hurt! She needs proper healing!”

Anarka stopped. She took a deep breath and walked over to her children. “Come ’ere, stareater. Let me have a look at ya.” She grabbed Juleka and picked her up. She sat down on the bed and looked at her face. “Oh, my beautiful girl. Of all the crimes Nathalie committed, assaultin’ you was the worst.” She hugged her, and Juleka buried her face in her impossibly long hair. Anarka was quiet. “I can’t take ya to shore, love.”

Luka stood, his eyes narrow. “M’an, she needs a healer!” He argued.

“If we go ta shore now, Nathalie will find us.” She countered. “We have ta go out onta th’ ocean and sail out ta Crossbone Island.”

“There’s no magic on Crossbone Island, M’an!”

“We can’t risk Nathalie findin’ us again!” Anarka stood, Juleka still in tow. “Aye, she’ll be out for our blood now, mark my words.”

Anarka carried Juleka to the infirmary, where she was patched up. That night, she made her favorite dinner, and that night, she picked the record they played. She wasn’t being subtle; Anarka felt horrible that Juleka had been so badly hurt during the attack. She was trying to make up for it in the only way she knew how.

Three years passed. Juleka healed, but only just. Her back remained scarred, and Nathalie plagued her nightmares. She only slept a little bit during that time, eventually taking its toll on her.

Juleka woke and pulled the backpack with her things out from under her cot. She rose from bed, already dressed in a pair of sneakers, ripped tights, and a simple black dress with a zipper going all the way down in the front. She tiptoed over and peeled around the divider separating her side of the room and Luka’s. He was sleeping soundly.

She snuck out of the room, grabbing an unstructured black jacket from the coat hanger. She pulled the hood over her head and tiptoed through the ship, pretending to duel with a shortsword she’d taken from the armory. Juleka rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, until she reached the deck. She looked up at the sky, admiring the thousands of stars, and trying to commit their pattern to memory.

“Constellations are still th’ best maps, aye, stareater?” Anarka said from behind. Juleka jumped and spun around. Her mother was staring at the horizon from the helm. On one side, the gray ocean waves, and on the other, the cold, inhospitable environs of the Hinterlands. She came down from her perch and looked at her, taking her face in her hands. “What can this old sailor do for ya?”

Juleka felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked down. “M’an, I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore!”

“Whaddya mean?”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel safe here! I just know that she’s going to find me here!” Juleka said desperately. She broke free from Anarka and started to pace. “I have to go somewhere where I can just… sleep, mama.” She rubbed her eyes. “I just want to sleep.”

Anarka spun her around and started to braid her hair. “We’re more alike than ya think, stareater. Ya might wanna sleep, but th’ call of adventure is close to your heart.” She took a ribbon from her own hair to tie Juleka’s. “Mine called me to th’ sea, but yours sends ya to th’ shore.”

“M’an…” She said mournfully.

“Aye, but ya just a _child,_ Julie! Ya can’t go about this on ya own.” She said, motioning for her to follow. Juleka did so reluctantly, afraid that she was going to send her back to bed. Instead, Anarka led her to her treasure room. She found a box and presented it to Juleka. “I want ya to take this. It belonged to Nathalie.”

Juleka took three steps back. “No! I can’t take that!” She said fearfully.

“Aye, you will, lass.” Anarka declared, placing the box in her hands. “This is Atropos, one of th’ ancient weapons. I stole this from Nathalie in a fight, and now, I’m giving it to you.” She looked into her eyes. “Not just to protect yaself with, but as proof that she can be beaten.”

Anarka hugged her tightly. Juleka wrapped one arm around her, the other clutching the box. She was frowning. She put the box in her backpack and left Liberty, her vision blurred because of tears.

They had been docked in Mouerrise, so Juleka went north towards the Spinal Mountains. She had no intention of crossing the border, but figured a more landlocked location would throw Nathalie off her trail. She would travel between moonsets, and when she rested, she would work on her enchanting.

She had purchased a medium sized mirror, comparable to the length of her arm from her elbow to her wrist. She attached a leather strap to it and wore it like a shield, trying to perfect the enchantment so it could act as a mirror. She dropped pebbles against the glass to test it.

One night, as she was trying to perfect it, she head something coming closer. Juleka stood and looked down the road, and then across the plain. Something was getting closer. Something… big.

Then she saw it. Well, she thought she did. Running closer, with her wings tucked close to her body, was a cambion. Juleka had met a few in her travels, and recognized the horns and glowing eyes. She carried a sword in one hand, and in her other was a bag that seemed heavy. She was dressed in pale pink finery, heavy, layered fabrics with a short hoop skirt underneath. Her boots were muddy, like she’d been running for a long time.

Juleka saw the girl long before the girl saw her. She crashed into her, and while she nearly knocked her over, there was no time for an apology. “Please! You have to help me!” She shouted.

“What are you running from?” Juleka asked. But it didn’t take long to figure out. Drawing closer was a drake—a male dragon, wingless, but nevertheless deadly. And judging by the way the smoke was billowing out through his nostrils, he was very angry. He roared at them, the cambion screaming while Juleka stood frozen. Then, she grinned. “So awesome!”

“ _No!_ ” The girl shouted. “ _Not awesome!_ ”

The drake sprinted closer. Juleka abandoned her campsite and backed away, until they reached the other side of the road. Juleka was standing in front of the cambion, nervously holding her mirror shield in front of her, with her shortsword held tight in her other hand. The drake got closer, and eventually, he sent bright orange flames at them. The cambion screamed.

Juleka pulled the girl down as she raised her shield. The flames struck the shield, activating the enchantment. The shield began to absorb the fire, sending it deep, deep into the mirror realm. The drake seemed confused at this, and he sent more flames their way.

Juleka turned her attention to the girl, who was cowering behind her. Juleka changed positions, handing her the shield. She pulled the hood of her jacket up, counting the seconds until she was invisible. Then, she sprinted out of hiding, running to her camp. She dug through her things until she found Atropos.

Unfortunately, the invisibility enchantment ran out the moment she grabbed them. The drake saw her and tried to grab her with his massive jaws. He grabbed her jacket, and she had to use the scissors to cut it off her before ending up a dragon’s lunch. She hit the ground hard, but wasn’t deterred. She shot up, dual wielding a sword in her main hand and the scissors in her off hand.

Juleka waited for the drake to raise his massive paw. She dug the scissors into it, which caused him to rise to his hind legs in pain. Juleka carefully lined up the sword before throwing it directly at the soft spot over his heart. The drake was dead only moments later.

She walked over to the dragon corpse and claimed Atropos. The cambion stood on shaking knees, watching as Juleka appraised the claws, teeth, and horns of the dead dragon. “You…” she paused as Juleka looked up at her. “You just saved my life.”

In this moment, Juleka realized that the cambion girl was very pretty. She had big blue eyes that glowed in a charming way, and shoulder length blonde hair. Her horns were curved beautifully. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? A life is a _life!_ It can never be repaid!” She argued. The girl walked closer. “I have nothing I can give you in exchange for what you’ve done for me!”

“How was he chasing you anyway? I thought drakes were extinct.” She said.

The girl looked at the corpse. She shrugged. “They are now,” she said nonchalantly, at which Juleka chuckled. She offered her hand. “My name is Rose. I’m a treasure hunter.”

Juleka frowned. “You seem a little young to be a treasure hunter.” She took her hand. “My name is Juleka. I’m an enchantress.”

 

* * *

 

“How have you been, Julie? How’s your belle Rose?”

“Full of life, and now purpose.” Juleka said, her smile nice, but brief. Her legs were up on a chair. She was looking into a mirror, but instead of her reflection, her brother Luka stared back at her. “The traitor has been more active of late. Rose is studying his magic, and forwarding information to my champion.”

Luka laughed. “Your _champion?_ ” He was sitting on his bed, strumming a few quiet chords on his guitar. The tips of his hair was dyed blue, like his eyes. Between her dyed hair and his, they looked more closely related now than they had before. “What are you, some kind of queen now?”

“Ha! You know that the divine right of kings is totally not punk rock.” Juleka retorted. She held her ankles and rocked. “But I did give her Atropos.” She looked away with a heavy sigh. “I know she can use it better than I ever could…”

“How does Rose feel about her?”

“She adores her!” Juleka said. “She channels her at least once a night.”

“You’re not jealous?”

She waved Luka off. “I don’t get jealous. Besides, even if I was, I have the real thing.” She said. She frowned. “I was never very good at making friends. Rose knows that, but I think it makes her sad. Sometimes I worry that she’s isolated herself here with me, and I wonder if she wouldn’t be happier in a place like the Necropolis, or Mouerrise even.” She looked back at the mirror. “I would be just as happy to only have Rose, but she would have other friends, if not for me.”

Luka frowned and let out a depressed sigh. “That’s not a healthy feeling.” He said. She didn’t reply. “You should come home, Julie.”

“I can’t.” She said.

“M’an misses you.”

“I channel every Thursday,”

“It’s not the same, but I understand.” Luka put down his guitar. He leaned forward. “She can’t leave Charon for very long, but she’s letting me go. I’m going to come stay with you, with these reports of his agents growing more common.”

“But you just left a week ago! You would have only just got home.” She argued.

Luka laughed and looked up. “What, you don’t want your big brother hanging around?”

She sighed. “You know I don’t mind your company…” She said, though her pout said otherwise. They got along fine, though they got on each other’s nerves the more time they spent together. “When are you going to be here?” Juleka asked.

“I have some things to take care of here, but I’ll head out in a few nights. With luck, I should be there in a week.” He said. “M’an wants me to use the landships, but there’s a Clara Nightingale performance in Cercueil. Landships won’t pass that way.”

“It is a bit out of your way.” She said.

“Well, so is your house. It’s so far east of Mouerrise that we might as well sail around the continent and dock in Trolhjem.” He teased.

Juleka giggled. “Is M’an really okay with you leaving?”

“You know how she is! Never was there a spirit more free than Captain Anarka Couffaine.” He said. He waved her off. “Besides, somebody has to chaperone you and your girlfriend.”

“You aren’t missing much. Last night, after a rousing game of dragon chess, we fell asleep talking about dessert hummus.” She asked. Luka laughed quietly. He covered his mouth to quiet his giggles. “I’m glad you’re coming.” She didn’t want to admit that she missed him, so she deflected. “It’s been so quiet here. Belle Rose would love a bit of music.”

“You know, that’s not the only thing bards train for…” Luka said, a sly grin on his face. “But, an extra pair of hands is always useful.”

“You would know!” She teased.

Luka laughed again. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at the mirror. “Oh, shut up!” He shouted. “I’ll be there soon. Get my room ready, Miss Mansion.” He said.

“Good journey, Luka.” Juleka waves her hand to sever the channel. She stood and started towards the door when it swung open. Rose saw her and startled, but Juleka just took her hands. “Easy, my love.” She said, smoothing her hair. “What troubles you?”

“Oh, I’m just going to channel Marinette!” Rose said. She rubbed her chin. “I get the feeling that I should.”

“Is something wrong?” Juleka asked.

“I don’t know, doux doux, I just feel like she did something!” Rose said with a pensive frown. She vanished it to smile at her. “Would you like to speak to her as well?”

“I just got done speaking to Luka. I’m going for a walk to clear my head.” She moved so Rose could get to the mirror. “Oh, before I forget, he’s coming back. He’s going to be here in a few days.” Rose nodded as Juleka left the room. She walked down the stairs and out the door, until she reached the iron gate that surrounded the manor. They had started a garden there. Juleka had suggested a more practical choice, vegetables, but Rose had eventually won her over in favor of a flower garden. They’d planted night-scented stocks, four o’clocks, and of course, roses.

Juleka sat on her heels to look at the soil. She started weeding, collecting them in her lap. She then started to trim the dead blossoms. She was looking for insects when she heard someone walking down the road. She stood, holding up her skirt as she looked around. The road was mostly clear, except—

Juleka hit the ground. She felt her breathing become uneven as she looked up and started to spy on Nathalie, who walked alone down the road.

“…found out about it. But he must have, I circled back and found the potion bottles shattered on a rock.” She reported as she walked past. She didn’t seem to care that she was walking right past the manor; something else must have been on her mind. “I don’t think they were working together, but he _did_ help her escape.”

She stopped as someone else spoke. Juleka couldn’t hear their voice over the channel, but assumed it was the traitor.

“I understand.” She said, closing her eyes. “Fortunately, I now know who to look for. I’ll send her face to you and our agents. She won’t avoid us for long.” Nathalie held her hand out straight, and with her magic, she created an image of Marinette. Juleka started to back away. “I’m returning to the mansion, and then I will continue on my quest to find her mother.”

Nathalie walked away. Juleka stood and sprinted for the house. She ran up the stairs and into the mirror room, where she scared Rose. “Juleka! What’s wrong?!” She said as she stood.

“Are you still talking to Marinette?” She asked. Rose nodded. She moved so she was looking into the mirror. Marinette was reflected there, startled by Juleka’s sudden appearance. “I just saw Nathalie on the road! She knows that you escaped!” She didn’t wait for her to process that before adding, “She knows what you look like, and she’s going to send your face to every agent the traitor has!”

“What?!” Marinette exclaimed, holding her face. “I can’t _change_ my _face!_ What am I going to do?!”

Rose stepped between Juleka and the mirror. “There is no reason to panic. Invest in a heavy cloak and keep your markings covered. If you’re cautious, you’ll be fine.” She shook her head. “Losing your cool will only end up hurting you in the long run.”

Marinette breathed calmly. “You’re right. I can’t lose my head.” She sighed, though, and looked off into the distance.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how she learned your face.” Juleka said. She looked at Rose. “She mentioned a ‘he,’ so maybe Adrien made a report?”

Marinette’s face turned white as a sheet. “I don’t think so! If he had stuck around Châtdurat to make a report, you would have seen Nathalie dragging him back to his father for failing something so critical, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Juleka admitted. She sighed. “I really must insist that you return to the manor. It’s too dangerous on the road.”

“I can’t. I finally have a lead on my parents. I think I might be able to learn what happened to them!” Marinette argued.

Juleka nodded. She folded her hands in front of her. “If I can’t convince you to come back, then I ask that you channel us every night.” She said. “There’s just too much at stake for us to hope that you’re safe, and not know.”

Marinette laughed. “You two have been channeling me every day, anyway!” She teased. She shrugged. “But, if this is important to you, I’ll make sure to update you every time I stop.” She smiled, her eyes sort of sparkling with joy that seemed foreign to her face after so much misery. “I’m headed south now. I have leads in Cercueil, Mouerrise, and the Necropolis.”

“If you’re leaving Maudite now, Cercueil is closest to you.” Rose said. She giggled. “Watch out for trolls on the South Road!”

“There’s a Clara Nightingale concert there. It might be a nice way for you to relax.” Juleka suggested.

“Oh, I love Clara Nightingale!” Marinette said cheerfully. “Thank you both for everything, but I should probably get going.”

Juleka leaned forward. “Please be safe, Marinette.”

Rose nodded. “Our coven just wouldn’t be the same without our little necromancer!” She said. Marinette severed the channel. Rose’s smile fell, and she looked at Juleka. “That was the first time you’d seen Nathalie since she attacked Charon. How are you holding up?”

Juleka looked at the mirror. When it wasn’t in use, it was just a mirror. She touched her reflection, removed her hennin so her hair could fall, and then pushed her bangs out of her eyes. She tore at the mirror, her nails too short to drag against the glass, and then she started to cry. Rose helped her into the chair, untying her bodice so she could breathe easier. “I’m so scared, Rose! What if she comes back?!” Juleka cried out.

“Then I will protect you, my love.” She said, laying down on top of her. Rose stretched her wings and then wrapped them around her, like a barrier protecting her from the world. Juleka huffed Rose and cried into her shoulder, while Rose watched the door, waiting for her demonic senses to pick up the sound of anything that didn’t belong.

But it never came, and so instead, they just cuddled for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> star eaters are one of those scary fish that live at the bottom of the ocean.


	10. Slasher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Parent’s Worst Nightmare Is Losing A Child To Gorchul, The Dark Sorcerer Of Time

Moonset marked the morning, and they had been traveling towards Cercueil for a while, so Adrien and Marinette decided to set camp. At Adrien’s suggestion, they didn’t stop at the side of the road, instead trekking into the grasslands and setting up next to a pond. After pitching the tent, Adrien grabbed his staff and watched the catfish in the water. Marinette, on the other hand, filled a cauldron with water and stoked a fire. She started to boil it, and then put their bloodied clothing inside to clean it. She strung up twine in preparation for hanging up the clothes.

Adrien watched her. He sat on his heels. “What was it like growing up in a small town?” He asked.

Marinette turned. He smiled innocently at her. “It was quiet. There wasn’t much to do except drugs and sex.” Her face turned bright red while Adrien’s face lit up, amused. “Not! Not th-that I did that! Either of those things!” She said, waving her hands in front of her. The twine fell, startling her. “Sex? I don’t know what that is.”

Adrien giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell on you.” He teased. “So you’ve got a partner waiting for you back home? Or just drugs?”

“No, I don’t have anyone back home. Not even my uncle.” She tied up the twine, broke a twig off the tree, and then walked over to the cauldron. She used it to push down. “I often had to help in the restaurant, which meant that I couldn’t go to school. I was there so inconsistently that I couldn’t make good friends.”

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“And you know, now that I think about it, a lot of the times I had to work in the restaurant coincided with my recent history lessons!” Marinette grabbed the cauldron and poured the bloody water into the grass. She started hanging up the clothes. “I’m thinking that Uncle deliberately approved sales and specials to make sure I didn’t attend those lessons, so I wouldn’t hear my mother’s name and wonder about her!” Her face was hot, frustrated and holding back tears. “And I want to be angry about it, but I _can’t,_ because now he’s dead!”

Adrien frowned. “You can still be angry,” he reasoned.

“And the worst thing of all is, I found out all this when Nathalie attacked my home… on my birthday.” She looked at him with tears forming in her eyes. “I turned fourteen, and my whole life came crashing down!”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up your hometown.” Adrien said.

Marinette waved him off. She rubbed her eyes and tried to pretend like she hadn’t almost cried. Marinette took a few deep breaths and grabbed a stone from the pond. She put it on a stump and took a few steps back. She held her hand out and focused on the stone. Her chest started to glow orange, highlighting her ribs, and the stone started to float, albeit shakingly. She tried to get it to move, but when her arm shifted, it fell.

Adrien watched her as she lifted the rock once more. He left his staff by the water and walked over to her, watching her form. He gently took her arms, startling her. The rock fell. “Just me,” He said, offering a smile. He looked at the rock. “You clearly have a lot of natural skill, but you’re not letting your magic flow.” He stood behind her and moved her arms. He directed her hand from her side, up, and then out, like skipping a stone across water. “You can get more lift and better control this way.”

Marinette looked up at him. He was close enough that she could see his hot breath against the cold Hinterland air, close enough that she could feel the hellfire burning in his chest. Her face burned brighter than before, and she avoided his eyes.

He removed his hands, his claws dragging lightly across her bandages, and stepped away from her. “Try it now.” He said.

Marinette took a deep breath. She let her arm fall, and she focused on the rock. She waved her arm like Adrien had suggested, and unsurprisingly, it worked much better. The rock was more stable, levitating higher than before, and when she moved her hand, it moved with her.

He smiled when she giggled. “See! You’re a natural born sorceress, Marinette.” He grabbed her shoulder in a friendly way. “You should keep practicing.” He walked back towards the pond, tossing her scissors at her. “A focus will help.”

Marinette watched him as he looked back at the pond. She grabbed the scissors and kept practicing the spell. When she felt that she had gotten enough practice with the stone, she looked around for something heavier to practice with. She moved the rock and started practicing with the suitcase. She started rolling her wrist to get the suitcase to flip over on itself. She lost her focus when there was wild splashing behind her.

Marinette turned to find Adrien with his hands in the river. He pulled them out suddenly to reveal two catfish, floundering in his grip. “I caught dinner!” He said with a goofy grin.

Marinette stoked the fire while Adrien cleaned and gutted the fish. Marinette practiced her magic by using it to keep the fish suspended over the fire. Adrien took this moment to stargaze. “It sounds weird, but you can’t see many stars in Châtdurat. There’s this dense smog over the city.” He said idly. He flipped over to his side to look at her. “My mother—” His eyes grew wide, and his expression fell. “I’m sorry, it just occurred to me that you might not want to talk about family…”

“It’s okay, Adrien. I don’t mind, and it’s better than silence.” She said.

“My mother used to take me out into the bog when my father wasn’t home, and she’d point out constellations to me.” He laughed. “It took _forever,_ because she grew up in the Summerlands, in a compound, so she hadn’t even _seen_ stars until she turned seventeen.”

“Oh, you have ancestry in the Summerlands? So does Rose!” Marinette said. “I actually haven’t met any cambions that don’t, but I guess I _have_ only met the two.”

Adrien chuckled. “This far north, I guess it’s expected.” His face fell. “Yeah, um, she was a cambion, too. Her father was human, and when she was seventeen, he sent her south to keep the hunters off her tail.” He shrugged. “Take that as literally as you want.”

Marinette tossed a couple of sticks at him. “Here. Strip this of bark, unless you want to eat with your hands.” She said.

Adrien sat up and did as he was told. He struggled to find ways to keep their conversation going without hogging it or asking about her family. “Um,” he looked at her. “What sort of things do you do when you _aren’t_ running for your life?” He asked.

“I sew. I make my own clothes and jewelry. Sometimes I make toys.” She said. Her eyes lit up, and suddenly her face was far away. “Oh, I could enchant some puppets to protect me…”

Adrien sort of guffawed quietly. “I thought that’s what _I_ was doing.” He protested.

She pulled the catfish closer to look at them. She pushed them back over the flame while reaching for her grimoires. “A simple Pinocchio enchantment wouldn’t be too difficult, though it might not be very effective on cloth…” Adrien watched her nervously, but she still seemed more focused on the fish. She checked the fish again, and then held them over the fire to keep them warm. “Go ahead, take one.”

Adrien stabbed the fish and put his jacket over his legs to catch any that fell off his makeshift skewer. Marinette took the other one and nibbled at her food as she read through the magic spells. He watched her as she ate.

Adrien jumped when a wolf howled nearby. Marinette seemed startled, too, but she recovered quickly compared to him. She blinked, and then moved closer out of concern. “Are you okay? Are you afraid of wolves?” She asked.

“Not wolves specifically. Just d—” Adrien shook his head. “No, I’m not scared. I was just taken by surprise.” He looked over his shoulder. “Although, it might be better if one of us stays awake, in case anything finds us.”

Marinette stood and stretched. “Well, I need more magic practice, so I’ll do it.” She volunteered.

Adrien’s face flushed. “No, you don’t have to! I don’t need to sleep!” He argued.

She stared at him in disbelief, her arms at her side and her mouth sort of pouty. She rubbed her eyes. “Listen, I know I made a mistake by telling you that I’m from a small town, and I know that in Nidesouris there were only humans, so I don’t know much about the biology of other species, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t—”

“N-no, it’s not a cambion trait!” Adrien said. “It’s a… zombie one, I think.” She kept staring at him. “Surely you remember that I’m… undead.”

She was still staring. “I mean, yeah, _technically,_ but—”

“I’m not going to argue about this!” Adrien said as he stood, pushing her close to the tent.

“You realize you were _resurrected_ and not _raised,_ right?” She asked. She sort of… flicked her fingers, like she was stretching the muscles. “ _Zing!_ ”

He blinked. “ _That’s_ the sound effect you picked for a resurrection?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “What sound would you have made?”

He considered this. He moved his fingers up towards the sky. “ _Kwah!_ ” He said before pushing her down.

She smiled at him. “Mine was better.” Adrien pushed her into the tent. “Mine was better!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He said as he zipped the tent closed.

Marinette smiled at the zipped up tent. She changed into her pajamas and crawled into the blankets, letting her hair down out of the pigtails. She shifted uncomfortably for a while, eventually falling into a restless sleep, her arms aching where Atropos had cut her. She dreamed of something warm again… she could feel herself walking through a doorway, the smell of apples and sugar floating on a warm breeze.

Welcome. _This place seems expensive._ Free bread for veterans. _You must not know many veterans._ Not so many, no. _It shows, or you would make us pay double for bread._ What makes you say that? _A farmer refused to give us food, so Aldéric’s generals ordered us to burn acres of grain, or they’d tie us up and leave us to be captured._ Is that true? _We’re the reason flour is so expensive these days._ A sin made under duress is a sin on the one who ordered it. _That’s perhaps too kind._ I’ve been accused of that from time to time. _Are you looking for extra help?_

Come home one day.

Marinette shot up, and she started rubbing her eyes. She pushed her hair out of her face, and then tied it back in pigtails. She crawled out of the tent, looking up at the sky to try to gauge the time. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but she knew she wasn’t falling back asleep. She was about to suggest to Adrien that they get moving, but he had fallen asleep sitting up.

Marinette smiled. She carefully picked him up—which was difficult, since he was nearly a head taller than her, and she put him inside the tent. She zipped the tent behind her. She changed into her clothes, as well as Adrien’s jacket. Marinette sat on a rock Adrien had dragged from the pond and dried with his magic. She held the body of the jacket close to her face, taking a deep breath.

Marinette looked down at her hands. She unraveled the bandages and looked at her skin, running her fingers over her veins, and then tracing the scars on her left arm. The wounds Nathalie had inflicted upon her were starting to scab, but the ones she’d inflicted upon herself were healed better.

A wolf howled again. Marinette startled and grabbed her scissors, though her hands were shaking, and she dropped them. Marinette scrambled to pick them up, accidentally cutting her hand on them. She spun, almost like she was dancing, around the fire, trying to find the wolf that must have been circling the camp. She half considered shouting for Adrien to join her, but he was sleeping so peacefully that she couldn’t bear to.

Then, she saw it. The wolf, standing on the outskirts of camp. It had gold and black fur, and it stared at her with eyes so deep and brown they almost seemed red. It was much bigger than she thought—she knew wolves were bigger than domesticated dogs, but if this wild animal were to stand on its hind legs, it would have towered over her! Marinette held her scissors out. The wolf stared at her, sniffed the air, and howled one last time. Then, it sprinted away, following the sound of distant howls. The pack, she figured.

Marinette lowered her hands. She watched the wolf run, and then sighed. She felt stupid to have panicked, and stood idly for a long time. When she turned, she started walking into a dense forest.

She didn’t know where she was going, and she didn’t even have her shoes. Marinette ignored the twigs and branches which blocked her path, all of which seemed to move out of the way by the time she reached them. She kept moving east, her eyes focused on the apple blossoms.

Adrien woke with a start, and he was frightened to find himself in the tent. He shook his head when he realized that Marinette must have put him to bed. He collected himself quickly and crawled out of the tent. “Are you ready to go?” He asked.

As he looked around the campsite, he noted two things. One, the fire was still going, and two, Marinette was not in the camp.

“ _Marinette!_ ” Adrien shouted, running his hands through his hair. He frantically looked around, worried that something had happened to her in however long he had been asleep. His breathing became uneven, until he finally spotted her, walking eastward away from camp, towards what might have been a farmhouse far on the horizon. “ _Marinette!_ Marinette, stop!” Adrien chased after her.

She was walking, so it wasn’t long before Adrien caught up with her. He grabbed her, spinning her around and holding her shoulders. Her eyes looked glazed over and bloodshot. However, when he held her, she blinked, and it seemed as though she was pulled out of a trance. “Adrien…?” She muttered. She looked around. She was standing in open plain. “Where did the woods go?”

“What were you thinking?! Where were you going?!” He demanded, out of breath and running high on adrenaline. He looked down. “Especially without you boo—” Adrien’s eyes grew wide, and all the liquid in his mouth dried up. “What have you _done?!_ ”

Marinette looked down. In her right hand, she held Atropos open. She was holding them to her skin, where she had made not one, not two, but seven gashes in her skin. Her right hand was dripping with fresh blood, pooling up in her palm and soaking the earth. “ _Aaaah!_ ” She exclaimed, dropping the scissors and backing up. She shook her head. “No! I wasn’t… I was just walking in the woods! I…”

Adrien grabbed the scissors and cut off one of his sleeves. He wrapped it around her arm tightly. “Quick, hold this here.” Adrien held her closely, and they scurried back to camp. He sat her down on the stump and grabbed bandages from her suitcase. He also grabbed a bit of spare cloth and soaked it in the pond. He wrung it out as he walked back, and then fell at her feet. Adrien carefully washed her arm, holding her hand to support her as she cringed and shivered. “I think we tend to our wounds too much,” he joked bitterly. “I think we should try our best not to get hurt again any time soon.”

“Adrien, your shirt… it’s ruined.” Marinette said.

He smiled at her. “I have other clothes, Marinette. Don’t worry about me.” He shook his head. “What happened? Where were you going?”

“I don’t know…” She looked at her arm as Adrien wrapped the bandages. “I think it’s a side effect of Atropos. Juleka said that it would ‘feed’ on me, and the blades would grow sharper.” She looked east, and her eyes looked far away. “I think that’s what happened, but… I wasn’t here. I was… in a forest. I’d never even seen one before now, not dense, like what I was in…”

“There are no forests here. There isn’t enough light for them to grow.” Adrien said.

“And… I’m having the dreams again.” She looked back down at him. He was frowning as he waited to see if she’d bleed through the bandages. “It was different this time. I heard both sides of the conversation, not just her voice in pieces and snippets.” She pulled her hand away to fold in in her lap. “She told me to come home one day.”

Adrien hesitated. He moved closer to the stump. He quickly put his head on her knee, but pulled back even faster. “Your uncle said that your dreams were triggered by weak spots in the veil. Last time, you were asleep in a healing pod that was probably used during the war, but what around here could have done that?”

Marinette looked around. “They were talking about bread…” She said. She stood up on the stump, and then pointed east. “There. A farm.”

He looked. “I saw that when I went looking for you. You think it’s related?”

“Only one way to find out. Help me pack up camp.” They cleaned the campsite, making especially sure no embers remained in the fire. When everything was put away, Marinette loaded their luggage onto the broom, lit the lantern fire, and climbed onto the broomstick. She smiled at Adrien and pat the spot she’d left for him.

Adrien chuckled. “Um, okay,” he said, unsure. Nevertheless he climbed on, pressing his body close to hers and wrapping his arms around her. “I’ve, uh, never ridden on a broomstick before. Is this, um… okay?”

Marinette turned. Adrien shifted slightly, so one of his hands was holding the broomstick, but his eyes were focused squarely on her face. “Y-yup! This is toky! Oaky! Smoky— _gaah!_ ” She looked away to smack her face, which aggravated her arm. “I mean, we should tet towing! G-get… time waits for Norman! N-Norman. _Norman!_ ”

Adrien giggled. “And that isn’t either of our names, so we should just go?” He suggested.

“Ha, yeah. Exactly.” She looked away with an embarrassed pout. She shook her head to banish the expression. Marinette pushed off the ground, and after Adrien panicked for a moment, they were flying smoothly. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t fly all that high off the ground. Uncle always said my father was afraid of flying!”

“That’s unusual in a witch!” He said.

Via broomstick, it only took about two minutes to reach the farm. Adrien got off first, and Marinette followed, tucking the broom in. They stood outside the gate for a while, examining the farm. It was dilapidated, the siding falling off the house, and the glass windows broken and boarded up. The grain silo had suffered the worst of it. On top of being burned, there was a huge hole in the side that had weakened the integrity of the building. It looked like a strong wind could knock it over.

Adrien looked at Marinette and nudged her. “Do you suppose this is what people picture when they say ‘buy the farm?’”

She scoffed, but there was a smile on her face. “You’re terrible!” Marinette pushed open the gate, but it fell right off the hinges, kicking up dirt. She pointed at the house. “I guess we can just go in the house without knocking, then.”

Marinette walked towards the house, Adrien a few steps behind. She opened the door, flinching as the rusted hinges squealed in agony of disuse. The farmhouse was abandoned, though that was obvious, and it showed signs of having survived a fire. The wood was charred, but the floors were solid. To the left was a dining room, cabinets with glass doors broken and shattered, devoid of anything valuable. A small sitting room was to the right. A staircase sat almost directly in front of the door, though in the hallway created between the dining room and the stairs, there were two doors and another hallway.

“This place is solidly built to have survived a fire.” Marinette said. She walked into the sitting room and looked out the window. “You can see where the fields were from here. It’s all overgrown now.”

Adrien tested the stairs. They were creaky, but stable. Upstairs he found a bathroom and two bedrooms. One had belonged to a young child, if the cutesy wallpaper was any clue. The shelves had roses painted on them, and some of the toys remained, but had burned up in the fire. He grabbed one, and it disintegrated in his hands. “They didn’t take everything, but it looks like whoever lived here before the fire was allowed to evacuate first.” Adrien shouted down.

“Where are you?”

“Upstairs. I found the bedrooms.” He took another look. “They took clothes and valuables, but it looks like they left heavy furniture.” He could hear her climbing the stairs, so he left the small bedroom and entered the master. She followed him.

The bed was positioned in the middle of the wall, so the door hit one of the bedside tables. This room hadn’t been as badly burned. Some of the furniture was singed, but they could even tell the pattern on the sheets. “This place is oddly decorated.” Marinette said. She looked at Adrien. “I have no doubt that this farm was a casualty of war, but… I think it might have been targeted because Summerlanders lives here.”

“It’s a safe bet.” Adrien agreed. Marinette opened her mouth to say something else, but she interrupted herself with a yawn. He smiled. “Are you sleepy?” He teased. Adrien tested the bed. It squeaked, but the floor didn’t give, so he opened a window. He beat the dust out of the sheets, and then presented the bed to her in a goofy fashion. “Here you are! One royal bedchamber, my lady.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re a walking disaster.” But she climbed into the bed, not even bothering to take out her hair ribbons. Adrien started to leave. Marinette sat up, hesitated, and then called out, “Wait!” He waited. “C-can you… stay? I’m not feeling well, after what happened with the scissors…”

“Marinette, I’ll give you nightmares,” He argued.

She shook her head. “I’m having them anyway.”

Adrien considered this. He seemed apprehensive, but obliged. Adrien took off his boots and crawled into bed next to her. Marinette smiled at him, closed her eyes, and fell asleep. Adrien looked at her bandages hand, frowned, and then wove their fingers together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!


	11. Keep Friends Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mom Hasn’t Said Full, Uninterrupted Sentence To Family Since 1997
> 
> (please forgive me for changing Marinette’s clothes again I can’t stop myself)

Marinette woke up before Adrien, and while she knew that they’d have to get moving before long, she was drawn in by the warmth of the bed. She closed her eyes and dozed for a few minutes before forcing her eyes to open and look at Adrien. He was asleep on his stomach, his head turned to the side facing away from her so he could breathe. She could see his breath, and she smiled as she mentally compared him to a dragon.

She shivered, and moved closer to him. Her marked arm was shaking from the cold. Marinette thought for a moment, and then shoved her hand under Adrien’s body. She let out a sigh of relief as his body heat started to warm her.

However, it didn’t last very long. Adrien woke violently soon after, sitting up straight. He looked at Marinette and frowned angrily. “Corpus Christi, Marinette. There are nicer ways to wake someone up than putting your cold appendages on them!”

“I’m sorry!” She cringed as he pulled away to stand up. “I’m just so cold.”

“You’re always cold!” He said. Adrien stood up and stretched. He found his backpack and started to go through his clothes. He pulled a few things out to look at them when he noticed that Marinette hadn’t moved. He lowered his hands. “Uh… do you mind if I get changed?” He asked.

“No, why would I?” She asked. Her face flushed as she realized what he was trying to say. “O-oh! I’m sorry. I’ll go try to figure out something to eat!” She slid out of bed and left the room, accidentally slamming the door. The hinges screamed at this, and the wall actually cracked, drenching Marinette in a waterfall of ash and plaster on her head. She dusted off her head as she went downstairs.

Marinette dug around in her belongings until she found a half-sliced loaf of bread. It probably would have been better if she had butter to put on it, she lamented as she sliced it, but she didn’t. She cut a few pieces for both of them.

Adrien joined her a few minutes later. He had changed into a black, short sleeved shirt with criss-crossed laces and white marks that made it look like it had a skull on it, pants with two tones of gray vertical stripes, and his jacket, once again with the sleeves rolled.

He grabbed a slice of bread and started eating. “So, onward to Cercueil?” He asked.

Before she could reply, she heard the mirror start to vibrate in her suitcase. Marinette motioned for Adrien to hide as she answered it. Marinette straightened her hair and stood straight as Juleka appeared. “You haven’t channel us in a while. Is everything alright?” Juleka asked.

“Oh, don’t worry! Everything is fine!” Marinette said. She looked at her wrist. “Just a little drama with Atropos.”

“It fed on you, didn’t it?” Juleka sighed. “I’m sorry. If I had any other legendary weapon, I’d have given it to you instead, but Atropos can cut through anything.” She looked away. “Even metal.”

“Even so… I think I’m going to go put them away for a bit.” Marinette said. Juleka nodded, respecting her choice. “Anyway, was there something you needed?”

“Not as such. Just checking in.” They spoke for a few minutes idly, Juleka reporting nothing from the road.

When the channel ended, Adrien came out from his hiding spot under the table. He frowned. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had me hide from Juleka and Rose. Are you ashamed to be traveling with me?”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide, and she waved him off. “No, no! Of course not!” She frowned. “But you have to understand, Adrien, Juleka isn’t just my friend and ally, she’s my _patron._ I am reliant upon her, not just as my eyes on the South Road, but financially.” She looked at him with sad eyes. “If I thought that Juleka would accept our friendship, I would confess it to her in a heartbeat, but she still thinks of you as your father’s pawn.”

“How can I convince her that I’m not if I can’t speak to her myself?” He asked.

“It’s safer that she thinks you’ve gone away for now. You heard what she said last time, she thinks that you’re still reporting to him!” Marinette argued. She took Adrien’s hands. “I know that this is inconvenient. Just think of it as having a secret identity, except…” Here, she paused, trying to think of an exception. “No… I’m not sure what I mean.”

His frown persisted through their simple breakfast. Marinette had bled through her bandages, so she fetched water from the well out back and had Adrien heat it. Once it boiled, she let it cool, and used the disinfected water to clean the wounds. Adrien helped her redo the bandages.

Then, they got underway, using the broom to travel faster. The farm had once sat on the road, so they followed it. The Hinterlands has begun to grow wild here. One side of the path was overgrown badly, the pale golden brown grass taller than either one of them. Adrien reached one hand out to run his hand along the grass as they flew past it. It was soft against his fingers, the wind flowing through his hair.

Marinette looked back at him over her shoulder. “Next stop, Cercueil!” She said with a grin. Adrien smiled back. He realized that he just… wasn’t mad anymore. He jumped as she took a sharp corner, holding onto her so he didn’t fall.

 

* * *

 

Cercueil had taken its name from a coffin, but it didn’t look much like one. It was surrounded by wooden fences that looked like a strong breeze could have knocked them down, and within, one was immediately greeted by the marketplace. Tents covered small stalls that sold handmade crafts, usually enchanted items. The paths through the market led towards a giant tent with red and white stripes, like a circus. Small buildings lined the other side of the city, leading towards the town square, and then in the heart of the town, an abandoned carnival was on its last legs. Even at a distance, one could see the gentle breeze was knocking around the Ferris wheel and causing pieces to tumble to the ground.

But, they had without a doubt reached their destination. They could see Fort Gossamer down the road, it’s immense size casting a shadow on Cercueil, so obviously ominous that the almost whimsical aura of a town built upon its graveyard almost seemed to make morbid sense. Fort Gossamer, like half of Cercueil, was condemned. Marinette needed to get in, to find out if her dreams were actually leading her to her mother, but it wasn’t like she could buy a ticket and take a tour. It wasn't like she could scale the wall, either—her broom couldn’t fly more than about a meter off the ground. How was she to get inside?

Marinette stood in the market and stared down the fort. She was shaking, but it could have just as easily been her wound. Marinette turned from the fort to a booth, and she purchased some new clothes. She looked around for a place to change. She exchanged her bloodstained clothes for a black mandarin collar shirt with golden embroidery and frog buttons. Her new bodice was black, closed with leather straps and decorated with studs, and to which a leather studded hip purse was sewn. She pulled down the hem of her red skirt. It was shorter than she was used to, coming to about her mid-thigh, though her stockings provided modesty. She found a mirror in the flea market and stared at her reflection.

She startled when Adrien grabbed her shoulder. “You look great.” He said, folding his arms across his chest as he looked over her reflection. “It’s like a brand new you! Like you finally stepped out of the sticks and into the big city!”

Marinette turned to look at him. “I kind of miss my apron.” She admitted.

“Trust me, you look better without it.” Adrien reassured her.

She wasn’t convinced. Adrien put a leather glove in her hand, which she used to cover what little of her markings the bandages didn’t, and then turned her around to put skull-shaped pins in her pigtails. “Were you able to get tickets to the tour?” She asked.

He nodded. “Tomorrow at moonrise.” He looked up at the fort. “Any idea how we’re going to get inside after that, though?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. There has to be some way inside, a major weakness that the Summerland armies exploited. We almost lost Fort Gossamer, so it can’t be as impenetrable as it looks, right?” She sighed. “Though I doubt it’ll be as easy as breaking the lock and walking right in the front gate…”

Adrien chuckled. “No, and it’s probably a bad idea, anyway.” His smile fell as they started walking. “We should be careful inside. Gossamer might have been a military fortress, but prisoners were tortured just as much here as they were in the dungeons of Castle Inclementia and the Tower Oubliette.”

“How many people died there, I wonder?” Marinette asked. She walked a pace and a half in front of him, glancing around. “Maybe we can follow the market line and examine the walls discreetly?” She wondered. “We might know more after the tour.”

Marinette stopped to look at ingredients and reagents, and Adrien took this moment to read her spellbooks. As he skimmed the pages, he spotted something familiar out of the corner of his eye. He looked at it, and he realized that it was the half-elven man who had helped him after Nathalie attacked Marinette. “Hey, I know that elf!” He said, pointing at him.

Marinette looked up at where he was pointing just as the man turned his head to see Adrien. His face was confused for a moment, but then it lit up as he recognized him. He started walking over, much to Adrien’s discomfort.

“Great job, Adrien,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “You just had to notice him.”

The half-elven witch stopped at a respectful distance. “I was hoping I’d run into you again!” He said cheerfully. “I’ve been so worried. Children shouldn’t wander the roads alone.” He said. After a moment, he chuckled. “Though I suppose a cambion child would be better off than most!”

“I remember you, from the road to Maudite.” Adrien said. “It’s good to see you again, especially under better circumstances.”

“Yes. I would have come over sooner, but I remembered you as more human the last we spoke.” He grinned. “My name is Tom. This must be the friend you spoke of?”

Adrien smiled. “This is Mar—”

Marinette stepped forward. “I-I can speak for myself!” She interrupted hastily. “My name is M… Marie, and this is… Félix.”

Adrien hesitated. “Félix Chevalier of Maudite, sir.” He said. Tom took his hand and shook it. “What are you doing here? It seemed like we were heading in opposite directions when we met last.”

He grinned nervously. “That’s a bit embarrassing.” He confessed.

Tom blushed, and he avoided Adrien’s expectant eyes. As Marinette and Adrien tried to prod an answer from him, a new face joined them. It was clear enough that she was traveling with Tom, but they couldn’t have looked more different. She was short, for starters, just barely passing for human and not a dwarf. Her black hair was cropped short, and her silver eyes were painted with red eyeshadow and dark mascara. She wore a black qipao with a slit up her leg over baggy black pants. They tapered into boots that stood on impossibly delicate filigree. There was a beaded necklace around her neck, and a silver belt with jade inlays cinched her dress to her body. There was a white cape attached to her clothes, golden embroidery near and under the white fur lining.

Tom used this moment to break the tension. “Marie, Félix, this is my wife, Sabine.”

Sabine looked up at him. “You know I hate to interrupt, but I have some bad news.” She said. Tom frowned. She folded her arms, revealing golden gloves. “I spoke to the Craftmaster. She won’t be able to fix the broom. We’ll have to wait until she enchants a new one, which could take days.”

“Take me to the Craftmaster. Maybe I can reason with her.” Tom said. He looked to Marinette and Adrien sadly. “I’m sorry to cut this short. Be safe.” He linked arms and walked away with his wife.

Adrien watched them leave as Marinette herded him in the opposite direction. “Why did you lie to them?” He asked.

“Adrien, we’re all alone out here!” Marinette argued. “We don’t know who to trust! You can’t give your name out to strangers! It could be dangerous!” She said. She pulled her arms in, shaking. “The path I’ve chosen is dangerous. The closer I get to finding out what happened to my parents, the more likely we are to run into your father’s agents!”

“You’re right, of course.” Adrien confessed. They kept walking. “Though, I have to admit, it’s a little bit comforting knowing that you weren’t lying earlier.”

“About what?” She asked.

“About it being safer if Juleka and Rose don’t know about me.”

“I don’t see how the two relate…”

Adrien shrugged. “Well, you wouldn’t have lied about your own name if you were only ashamed of me.” He reasoned.

Marinette blinked, and then smiled. After a moment, her face lit up. “Oh! Juleka mentioned Clara Nightingale was in Cercueil. We should go!” She shrugged. “At least to kill time until moonrise tomorrow.”

They followed signs to a Clara Nightingale poster on an iron fence. Music played quietly from within the large, dirty, red-and-white striped tent. Adrien held open the gate for Marinette, and they went inside the tent. It looked like a circus tent on the inside, with large steps leading towards the center ring, where a stage had been set up. The music had grown louder, and bright lights hurt their eyes.

But, there were only a few people. They sat down, like many of the others, and waited patiently. As they sat, they became aware of two sets of music, one that played around the tent, and another coming from nearby.

Marinette followed the sound with her eyes, eventually falling on a boy sitting in front of them, and a bit to the side. She couldn’t see all of him from her position. His black hair had blue streaks, and his black pants had several zippers on them, keeping pockets closed. His black leather jacket had sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and exposed the red plaid shirt underneath. “Excuse me,” Marinette said, leaning forward. The boy turned and looked at her with blue eyes. His tee shirt depicted a skeleton holding a guitar. “You play beautifully,” she complimented. The boy smiled, flashed a rock and roll hand sign, and went back to his music.

“Friend of yours?” Adrien asked.

“No, just trying to be nice.” Marinette said.

People in circus uniforms climbed onto the stage. They were talking among themselves, seemingly annoyed. The lights dimmed and focused on the stage. After some murmurs of agreement, the workers got off stage. Then, a young dark elf about their age stepped onto the stage. Her skin was dark, and her orange-dyed hair was heavy and curly. She wore a white ruffled shirt, a black jacket. The ruffles on the sleeves hung low, over her hands and exposed from the jacket. A scarf the color of hardwood floors was tucked inside the jacket, and her pants had a dark plaid pattern.

She raised her wand, and light glowed at the tip. As she waved it, illusions filled the tent. They swirled about, depicting whales and oceans. Marinette reaches out and touched a salmon, which banished it. She was impressed, but she didn’t touch anything else. The girl twirled the wand down before bringing it up. She vanished in a plume of flame, which spread about the room as a dragon reached out and roared. When it clenched it’s snout shut, it vanished. The girl didn’t reappear for a few moments, and then with a flourish.

The audience applauded, though there were only a few of them. The girl bowed and jumped off the stage. She sat down in the front row, breathing heavy and exhilarated.

The circus workers got back on stage. They spoke among themselves, and then motioned for someone to join them onstage. Marinette recognized the tall woman with long brown hair stepped who stepped onstage as Clara Nightingale. The tips of her hair were dyed hot pink and teal. Her tight white shirt had detail that made it look like a skull, and it showed a sliver of skin above her pleather leggings. Her boots were black, decorated with teal and pink filigree on the sides.

“This might just be practice, but people are here from Cercueil! Are you ready to hear rock inside of your skull?” She spoke into a microphone crafted out of an arm bone. The band started playing behind her, and she started singing and dancing to an upbeat song. Marinette cheered and clapped, and Adrien watched her. Her energy was infectious, and eventually they were swaying in their seats together.

Clara jumped off stage and danced among the bleachers. She made her way around before she started walking down them again on Marinette and Adrien’s side. As she walked past them, an idea seemed to form in her head, and she grabbed Marinette to dance with her. There was a moment, just as she grabbed her and before she pulled, where Marinette and Adrien just looked at each other in various levels of disbelief, and then she was twirled around.

Marinette didn’t know what to do as Clara danced with her. They spun, around and around, until she felt that even her brain was spinning. The crowd cheered, as though they considered entertaining, but every time she caught a glimpse of Adrien, he looked like he was half ready to panic. After a moment, she realized why. Clara was twirling her by her gloves hand, which she slipped out of. Marinette lost her balance and tumbled backwards down the stairs into the ring.

Shocked gasps and murmurs resonated through the tent. “ _Cut the music!_ ” Clara shouted.

Adrien jumped to his feet and ran down the steps to her side. “Are you hurt?!” He asked as Marinette sat up, rubbing her head.

“My head is pounding and I’m more than a little embarrassed, but I’ll live.” Marinette said. Yet he continued to fuss over her. The boy with the guitar and the illusionist approached also. Adrien, in an attempt to prevent crowding, lifted her up and carried her to the stage, setting her down on the side.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” The illusionist asked as Marinette waved her off.

The boy with the guitar seemed concerned also. “That was a nasty fall. You’re not bleeding?” He asked. Marinette rubbed her head and showed him clean fingers. “I can heal you, if you’re hurt.”

Clara joined the four teenagers. She placed her hands on the stage. “Guests are leaving, and none remain. We shouldn’t exploit your obvious pain.” She said. “With so many here, I don’t want to smother. Alya, can you go get ice from your mother?”

The illusionist, Alya, hesitated. “Um… yes, Miss Nightingale.” She ran off.

Adrien grabbed her hand and put it on her head where she’d fallen. “I worry that you’re unsteady.” He said. Marinette opened her mouth to argue, but Adrien shook his head. “We haven’t had a chance to really rest since Maudite, I guess. And you haven’t really eaten today…”

“I’m fine,” She said. She smiled at the boy with the guitar and Clara as well. “I don’t need anyone fussing over me!”

Clara held out her hand to return her glove. “This was ripped from your hand, I noticed it when you went to stand.” Marinette thanked her.

Alya returned with ice. It was wrapped in a cloth bag. “Here! Put this against the bump!” She said.

“It was just a little fall! I don’t deserve all the attention I’m getting!” Marinette said. Which she felt was true, as she was constantly tripping over her own feet.

“If that’s your definition of small, I’d hate to see what you consider a bad fall.” Alya quipped. “You fell down almost an entire flight of stairs.”

Marinette blushed and looked at her feet. She noticed that there was something strange about her stockings, and when she turned her leg over, she saw a massive run in them. “Oh, damnation.” She cursed quietly, pulling on the fabric. “How did I manage to do that?”

“Girl, you’re worried about a run in your stockings?” Alya laughed.

“If you want to mend or change, my dressing room is in range. It’s the least I can do, since I did drop you!” Clara offered. She pointed to a bit of bunched fabric. “A bit of privacy should you need it, to keep up good spirit.”

Marinette hesitated. “It’s not that bad, you really don’t need to—”

“It’s no bother, I insist! Let me put you on the backstage list!” Clara smiled sweetly as she offered her hand. Marinette looked at Adrien.

Adrien eventually nodded. “I’ll stay right here. Shout, if you need anything.” He said.

Marinette visibly relaxed, and she took Clara’s hand. She led her out of the tent. Adrien pulled himself onto the stage to sit as he waited. Alya and the boy with the guitar didn’t want to leave before getting word that Marinette was alright, so they stuck around to wait with him. The boy started playing his guitar, and Alya made light dance with the tune. Patient waiting turned to anticipation when Marinette didn’t return after five minutes. Anticipation turned to concern when five minutes became twenty. Concern became genuine fear when Marinette still hadn’t returned after forty minutes.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Adrien asked, jumping off the stage.

“Clara can really talk once she gets going.” Alya reassured him, as she had for the entire time they’d been sitting. “Your friend is probably six topics deep.”

“I mean, it’s _Clara Nightingale._ I don’t think she’s got a malicious bone in her body. She’s got the presence of a Summerland cheerleader.” The boy said.

Adrien shook his head. “Well, whatever. I’m going to check on her.” Adrien stormed towards Clara’s dressing room despite Alya’s protests that he wasn’t allowed. Nevertheless, both she and the boy followed him. The fabric led out of the tent, rather than straight to a dressing room, so Adrien looked around to make sure no one was watching before walking up to the trailer door.

He was surprised to find it wasn’t even locked. Adrien threw the door open and looked around the empty room. It was clean and orderly, not so much as a makeup brush out of place. Clothes were hung up in the closet, and the lights around the mirror were turned off. No Marinette. No Clara Nightingale.

Since the boy was watching the door, Alya climbed into the trailer and turned the lights on. “What the Hell?” She asked. She looked at Adrien. “Where did they go?”

Adrien didn’t respond. He kept looking for anything that might have explained why they were gone. He grabbed a drawer and forced it open, digging around through the hair clips and bands. Finding nothing, he opened another. There were photographs of Clara with her fans, an invoice for enchanted clothing she had ordered, and a dead butterfly, kept in a frame with the body removed so the wings wouldn’t rot. There was a label underneath which read _‘antheraea polyphemus.’_

Adrien felt the blood run from his face. “Oh, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I decided to include Clara Nightingale before remembering that I hated the Frightningale episode, exclusively for the fucking rhyming that apparently she /has/ to do  
> 2) This chapter and Ch. 10 were posted as soon as I finished them, so they’ll have more mistakes. Ch. 12 will take longer to come because I’m going back to the original method of not posting a new chapter until I have two written.  
> 3) Ch. 5 and 6 are now illustrated


	12. the Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Project Runaway

When she woke, Marinette was bound in a cage. Cords kept her arms bound straight behind her in the most unnatural way. Adrien had tied them together, but Clara was keeping them apart. She couldn’t move without causing herself more discomfort. Not that she had the energy to; Clara had used her bard training to lull her into an enchanted sleep. She’d stopped singing, so it was weakening.

There was a flash of light. Marinette flinched. “Don’t even think of trying any of your blood magic.” Clara said, waving her fingers in front of a crystal. “The enchanted chains will hurt you something tragic.”

“Clara… how could you?” Marinette whispered, not having the strength to speak louder. She tried to keep her head up. “Please, don’t hand me over to the traitor…”

She put down the crystal, slamming it on the table. She pointed at her. “Gabriel didn’t betray anyone! Cheng is the traitor—you don’t know what she’s done!” Clara argued.

“What has Gabriel done that inspires such loyalty…?”

Clara brought her hands to her chest. “He has protected me, a Summerland defector, a refugee.” She admitted. “He sends the enchantments, and I trust his judgements.” She shook her head. “Blood magic is dangerous, and the necromancers endanger us.”

“ _I’m a little girl!_ ” Marinette cried out. “You know I’m not dangerous!”

“You don’t know what she’s done!” Clara shouted. “What was lost when it could have been won!” She sliced the air with her hand. The cords grew hot, and they sent fire coursing through Marinette’s skin. She screamed, and she went limp. Clara turned back to the crystal. She put it down on a stand, and soon, the enchantment came to life. Like Juleka’s mirror, it projected a hologram. Nathalie stood at attention. Clara curtsied. “Your Majesty, what a pleasure this be.”

Nathalie held up one hand. “Enough, Clara. There’s no need to scrape your knee.” She said. Marinette narrowed her eyes. What did Clara mean by ‘your Majesty?’ “Were my suspicions correct?”

“I can’t say for certain! I don’t know what he looks like. There were two boys before the curtain, and neither looked ready to strike.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Nathalie said. “Move, that I might see her.” Clara stepped out of the way. Marinette avoided Nathalie’s icy glare. “Keep an eye on her. I saw the chaos in Adrien’s apartment. Even if she’s traveling alone, there are likely allies nearby.”

Clara nodded. She severed the connection, and then started to sing. Marinette fought off the drowsiness as long as she could, but eventually, she succumbed into a deep slumber.

 

* * *

 

She heard the screams from across the street. She sprinted across the road, ignoring the foreign soldiers whose shields carried the emblem of Kōrinoha. She kicked open the locked door, following panicked voices. And there, at the bottom of the stairs, she saw the daughter of Senator Lu cowering at the feet of a half-dressed Kōrinohani soldier. She felt rage build in her chest, and she raised her marked arm.

_Nǐ xiànzài sǐle!_

Dark magic flew forward, and it grabbed the soldier. It pulled him close enough that she could see the horror in his eyes as the energy sucked his lifeblood and snapped his neck. He fell to the ground, the black magic having scarred and wounded his face. Blood leaked from his body, but slowly. There was no pulse to push it out.

_Nǐ hái hǎo ma?_ Nǐ shāle tā! _Tā huì shānghài nǐ de!_ Zhè shì duōme èliè de mólì? _Wǒ bù huì ràng tāmen shānghài wǒmen!_ Nǐ huì zěnme zuò? _Wǒ huì qù nánfāng._

 

* * *

 

Alya shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense! Why would Clara kidnap your friend?” She asked, watching as Adrien paced back and forth. He held his head in his hands, not knowing what was safe to share. “Clara is a good person. She wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

The boy with the guitar looked at her. “You know her well?” He asked. It wasn’t accusatory, almost coming across as idle conversation.

Alya hesitated. “…No. Not really…” She shrugged. “Clara doesn’t travel with this circus, she just offered to perform with us. Not that my mother and I travel with this one, either…” She frowned deeply. “But, she’s very famous. Everyone loves her!”

“Sometimes the best way to avoid suspicion is to be in the spotlight.” Adrien said. He held onto the desk. He was terrified for Marinette, and completely lost without her, he realized; he didn’t know how to find her without any leads. “Alya, what do you know about her? You didn’t travel with her, but she knows you by name…”

“I don’t know anything! She loves music and her fans, and talking,” Alya rolled her eyes here, “but she doesn’t speak much about herself.”

The boy with the guitar stood up straight. “We’re wasting time. Whatever the reason, your friend is missing, and we have to find her.” He said. “Do you have something that belongs to her? Something we can use to track her down?”

Adrien thought for a moment. His eyes lit up. “Oh!” He started to dig through her belongings. He turned a few moments later, holding a neatly folded piece of white fabric. “Her apron.” He held it close to his chest, and he could tell that it still smelled like her. “But, I’m just a sorcerer. I can’t do any ritualized magic, except, you know… summoning demons.”

Alya shook her head. “I’ve never performed a ritual. Illusions don’t call for them, and the rest of the magic I know doesn’t call for them.”

The boy frowned. “And bards can’t use dark magic.” He lamented. After a moment, he sighed. “But… I can call in a favor.”

He led them out of the trailer and towards the market. He scanned the crowd, looking for someone, and all the while, Adrien grew more tense. His grip on Marinette’s apron became tighter and tighter, so much that the pressure was hurting his own chest. He worried how many other agents his father had, the depths of their loyalty, and if there was any way to know of their allegiance outside of breaking into their living spaces.

Eventually, the boy with the guitar smiled. His pace, once frantic, evened out. Adrien found he recognized the person they were approaching. “Sabine,” he called out as she turned to look.

Sabine smiled at him and moved so she was fully facing him. “Hello, Luka. It’s lovely to see you again so soon.” She glanced at Adrien before offering her smile to him, too. “And you as well, Félix.” Her face fell when she looked back at the boy with the guitar—Luka, apparently. “You know that I can’t do anything about the—”

Luka raised his hand. “I’m not still sharp over that.” He said quickly, like he didn’t want to talk about it. The way his left hand moved to hold his right arm seemed unnatural, the body language unsure and defensive for how calm and confident his face read as. “I’m not even here for you. I want to ask Tom for something.”

Sabine seemed surprised. “Oh! Well, he’s just over there.” She pointed before leading them to him.

Tom, like Sabine, smiled at Luka. “Hey, Luka. Félix. New friend.” He said, addressing each of the teenagers as his eyes fell on them. “Where’s Marie?”

“That’s what we’ve come to tell you.” Luka said. “Félix’s friend, Marie… she’s been kidnapped.”

Tom and Sabine recoiled. “Holy skeletons!” Tom exclaimed. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve come to me!” He looked around. “Follow me. We’ll need to get out of sight…”

 

* * *

 

As she walked past the gate, she felt her heart thump madly inside her chest. It was like a moth was trapped inside her, beating against her bones and flesh to escape. She looked at her hand, her markings reminding her of the power she commanded, and it filled her with determination.

She ignored the soldiers as they stopped their training to stare. Those who got close were met with an icy shoulder. One, laughing almost drunkenly as he approached, tried to grab her, and she used dark magic to destroy half his face. He lived, but he never approached her again.

She marched into the office of the Sergeant D’Argencourt. His desk was to the left of the door, and he didn’t stand when she entered. His face was sharp, less like a memory and more like looking at him through crystal clear glass. His face was stern, his black hair slicked back, and his mustache groomed and curled. He was with another man, but she didn’t pay him much heed yet.

Who are you? _I am the daughter of Senator Cheng of the Hidden Republic._ Why have you come so far?

Her breath faltered.

_The Emperor of Kōrinoha has thrown his lot in with Soleille and Aozora. He has conquered my home, and sends his soldiers to keep us in line! They destroy our art, they hunt our brothers, they rape our sisters—the question is not why have I come, but why didn’t I sooner? I want Emperor Masaru dead!_

He leaned forward.

And what will you do to see justice done? _Anything._

 

* * *

 

The circle was drawn in white chalk on the floor of Tom and Sabine’s hotel room. Tom’s eyes were focused on the tunes lining the inner circle, and Sabine was placing pieces of citrine around the glyph. Alya and Luka were working on lighting and organizing candles, and since Adrien had finished his task of eliminating outside light, he was sitting on the bed with Marinette’s apron pulled close to his chest.

Luka saw this and put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder in a friendly way. “Don’t worry, Félix. We’ll find Marie.” He said. Adrien smiled, though it was weak. He was very worried about the ritual—he was mortified by the idea that it might not work if Tom didn’t know Marinette’s real name, and it was too unique a name for him to reveal it safely.

Soon enough, Tom had finished preparing the circle. He took a silver bowl from his bag and filled it with water. He put it near the edge, where he would be sitting, and surrounded it with ivy. He took a pink camellia and ripped its blossoms off. He put them in the water so they floated on the surface. Then he ground up dried forsythias with mugwort. When he was finished, he looked at Adrien. “Put her apron in the center of the circle, and I’ll begin the rite.”

Adrien did as he was told. The others stepped away from the circle, watching as Tom wove magic. Sorcery was often big and loud—pure elemental force, bending to the will of the caster. Witchcraft was subtler. Tom closed his eyes and stirred the water with his finger. He spoke in a low, low voice, invoking an ancient elven language that Adrien had never heard before. The candles began to burn brighter, making the room orange, though the lights flickered. The pieces of citrine rocked gently, and the rolled towards the apron in the center. They circled in, like birds of prey, as Tom opened his eyes and stared blankly into the water.

They lights dimmed. The citrine rolled back out and froze in place, like they had never moved at all. Life returned to Tom’s face, and he let out a breath they hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “She’s been taken to Fort Gossamer.” He announced as he stood.

Sabine seemed disturbed. “Whoever took her must be keeping her in the sergeant’s quarters. It’s the one place where the tours don’t go!”

“Why is that?” Alya asked.

“Well, it’s locked up tight, for one. The key has been lost since Cercueil was claimed by the Rebellion.” Sabine said. Her face fell. “Old King Aldéric was said to order his sergeant to do horrible things to his prisoners. And D’Argencourt used to have his own personal prison cell in his quarters.” She looked at Adrien. “Who is your friend, that someone would go through all that trouble to kidnap her?”

Adrien felt his blood turn to ice. “Uh…” He muttered. He couldn’t just tell four strangers about her secret; she’d never forgive him! He had to think quickly. Who would warrant kidnapping, but not too many invasive questions? “Marie… is the youngest daughter of a wealthy family in the Necropolis. She was kidnapped earlier this month by powerful enemies of her father.” From everything his own father had told him of Cheng, this was likely the exact opposite of Marinette’s true situation.

“So, how did you find her?” Luka asked.

A fair question, even if it was annoying that he had to continue his already elaborate lie. “My mother works for her family. They thought that she might have had something to do with her abduction, and they had her arrested.” He said. Maybe, he thought as he tried to work himself back into the story, he should watch fewer Deathtime movies. “I offered to go after her, so she might clear my mother’s name.”

Tom, at least, seemed convinced. “And if you fail, they’ll throw her in jail and you out on the streets!” He looked to Sabine. “It would explain why she was in such bad shape when I first met Félix, and why he was so insistent on helping someone he didn’t know very well…”

“But not how her abductor was able to get into Fort Gossamer without being noticed!” She argued.

Alya shook her head. “That so doesn’t matter! What’s important is getting her out before something even worse happens.” She said.

Adrien agreed. “But, Marie is the witch here, not me. I can’t get her broomstick to fly even an inch off the ground, let alone all the way up to the tower…”

“Nor would you be able to if you were a witch.” Sabine said. “A powerful spell protects Fort Gossamer from aerial assaults.”

Alya frowned. “Then, how do we get inside?” She asked. “If we use the front gate, the noise will attract attention, and it might be too late if we wait to go with the next tour!”

Luka looked at Sabine with pleading eyes. “Please, you were in the army. You must know something that can help us!”

Sabine turned around. She put her hands on the dresser and was quiet for a long time. “Aldéric trained rats. Big ones, like sewer rats.” She said. “There were passages all along the fort that he used to send covert messages to high ranking officers.” She sighed. “It’s too big for a mortal to fit through, but something smaller might.”

Alya thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “I could send an illusion through the passages!” She suggested. “Or, Luka, you could use your bard training to alter acoustics, and we could spy on them!”

Luka smiled softly. “Thank you for helping us.”

Sabine looked away. “Well, it’s what I do, I suppose.” She said. “Help people.” She muttered something under her breath before looking at Tom. “Come on, then. We have to secure a way out of town before this gets worse.”

After leaving the hotel, Alya stopped Luka and Adrien. “Listen, Tom and Sabine were a lot of help just now, but there was something else they said that makes sense.” She said. “Things are going to be very bad if we don’t handle this right. And even if we do, it might not last long.”

Adrien frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s probably best if we secure a way out of Cercueil. We’ll probably have to make a mad dash for the finish once this is done.” Alya said. “My mother has a wagon, and if I can explain to her the urgency, I can have you on the road to the Necropolis almost as soon as we leave.”

“It’s always good to have an escape plan,” Luka said, “but I won’t be joining you. I have plans in the opposite direction.”

“I’ll go get the wagon ready. Don’t storm the fort without me!” Alya ran off back towards the circus.

 

* * *

 

**Why would you fight for Fémurre, when this is not your home?**

_This war means something. This is about more than the Hidden Republic. If the Summerlands expand, they’ll knock down the Spinal Mountains, and pull the Moon to ground!_

**Do you honestly believe that?**

_Is that not what the King says? That they seek the ancient weapons to expand their reach? Why else would they need weapons so powerful, if not to destroy the very sky?_

 

* * *

 

Alya found the boys as they looked for one of the entrances that Sabine had mentioned. “There you guys are!” She was panting, and she put her hand against the wall. “Any luck finding one of the message holes?”

As if on cue, Adrien started pushing on a brick. They watched him as he managed to turn it around and push it out. “There’s a narrow passage here.” He backed away from the wall, and they could see he was frowning. “But this won’t lead where we need it to. Look, the tower is disconnected from the rest of the walls.”

“There must be other passages inside the fort.” Luka said, a hint of optimism in his voice.

Alya, however, agreed with Adrien. “But, unless they’re open, my illusions won’t be able to go through them. And while you could distort sound in one passage, moving it through two or more might be impossible—it’s just too far!”

Luka frowned. “We have to do something!”

“No one is saying we do nothing!” Alya argued. She looked at Adrien. “Any ideas, Félix?”

For a moment, he didn’t realize that they were talking to him. Then, the color ran from his face. “There… is something that I could try.” He said. He frowned and shifted awkwardly. “Don’t… look at me when I do this.” Alas, Luka and Alya kept their eyes firmly on him.

One moment, Adrien stood before them, his cambion tail flicking back and forth, like he was annoyed by his thoughts. The next, he was a small cat that sat in front of them. At first glance, he looked like a normal gray tabby cat, but then Adrien flicked his tail, and they could see that it branched off, having two tips at the end of his tail.

“You’re adorable!” Alya cooed, picking him up and snuggling him close to her face. Adrien struggled to escape her for half a moment, and then surrendered with a content ‘mew.’ She eventually let him go. “Be careful inside, Félix. We don’t know why Clara took Marie, but it can’t be good.”

Adrien climbed up the wall and crawled into the passage. He thought he would have to scoot, but while there wasn’t a lot of room, he could easily move his legs. The passage was a few meters thick, and the other side was blocked also. Adrien used force magic to knock it out of place.

When the brick crumbled, he jumped out and started searching. Adrien tried his best to navigate the buildings, but being so much smaller than he was used to, he easily got lost. Eventually, he found the tower, the passageway entrance, and he climbed inside. This one was larger, as it had to be to accommodate the almost stair-like structure within. Adrien quickly climbed the tower, reaching the end of the passage with little trouble.

The end wasn’t blocked, making him think that the others were when the fort was converted into a museum. Adrien kept low as he scanned the room. Clara was singing, pacing back and forth. There were a few pieces of furniture, mostly broken… and then a cage. Adrien perked up as he tried to look inside… and he saw Marinette chained within.

Adrien carefully jumped down. The spell Clara was singing was specifically tailored to mortals, and in Adrien’s animal form, he wasn’t affected. He squeezed through the bars. Marinette was fast asleep, and nothing Adrien did could wake her. He looked back through the cage, and he combined shadow and force magic to collapse stone, making a noise outside and down the hall. Clara stopped singing, grabbed a flail, and left the room.

Marinette woke instantly, groggy but unharmed. Adrien meowed, putting his paws against her face. “A… Adrien? Is… that you?” She asked. He meowed and rubbed against her face. “Listen, there probably isn’t… much time.” She closed her eyes. “Clara… is waiting… for Nathalie. She works… for your father… and these cords… are draining my strength… please, help me…”

Adrien nodded. He pressed his nose to hers. He ducked behind her and transformed back into his cambion form. “What kind of magic is this?” He asked. When he touched the shackles on her wrists, electricity pulsed through his hands, and he shot back. “ _Agh!_ Son of a b—”

“Quiet! You’ll need to… get her to unlock… the cords…” Marinette warned. “She’ll… only do it… if…” What little of her strength remained had already faded, and she could no longer keep her head up. “…if Nathalie…”

Adrien frowned. He transformed back into the cat, and he realized that he couldn’t get back up to the passage. He waited for Clara to return, and then darted out while she wasn’t paying attention. As he ran through the fort, he tried to think of a way to hide the fact they had to impersonate Nathalie.

Adrien returned to find Luka and Alya waiting with bated breath. “Well? Is she okay?” Luka asked as he climbed out of the hole and returned to his true height.

“She’s in there, and Clara works for…” Adrien couldn’t think of a lie. “I don’t know. But Clara thinks Marie looks like someone, and they’re waiting for another agent to come and confirm that she is or isn’t who they’re looking for.”

“So, Marie’s abduction has nothing to do with her father?” Alya asked. “It’s just a coincidence?”

“Looks like it.” Adrien said. “But, she’s waiting for someone named Nathalie. I’ve heard—”

Luka held up his hand. “Wait, Nathalie? Clara thinks Marie looks like _Cheng?_ ” He said.

Adrien was shocked, but he had to hide it quickly, before Luka took note of it. He looked away, and Luka held his arm again. “I don’t know. Does that name mean something to you?” Adrien said when he looked back.

He could see pain written in Luka’s eyes. He pulled his arm close, shook his head, and tried to relax. “No, I’ve only heard stories, but Nathalie attacked my hometown a few years ago.” He said. Adrien couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“Well, if we wait for Nathalie to come, do you think that she’ll let Marie go if she isn’t the person they’re looking for?” Alya asked.

“ _No!_ ” Luka and Adrien both said at the same time. It was more surprising that Adrien had objected, since he had claimed not to know who Nathalie was.

He had to think quickly. “Clara’s got Marie chained up! She’s draining her strength! If we wait for this Nathalie, she might die!”

“Besides, it’s far more likely that Nathalie will kill her to cover up the abduction.” Luka said.

Alya frowned. “Well, when Nathalie attacked your home, did you see her?” He nodded. “Well, tell me what you remember. Maybe I can conjure up an illusion that will convince Clara to let Marie go. We can pretend that she’s this Cheng, and then get out of dodge before the real Nathalie shows up!” Alya sighed. “But, for something so complex, I can’t use the illusion on myself. I can’t create the illusion and maintain it over myself, it’ll be too difficult. One of you will have to be Nathalie.”

“Let me take Nathalie’s place. It isn’t fair to ask you both to take a risk for a stranger.” Adrien said.

“No offense, Félix, but out of all of us, I’m the only one who knows what Nathalie is like.” Luka said. He smiled. “Besides, with my training, I,” he waved his hand in front of his mouth, “can do this.” His voice had changed, and he sounded exactly like Nathalie!

“Luka, that’s perfect!” Alya said. “Now, quickly, tell me what she looks like.”

Luka described Nathalie in incredible detail, even remembering the type of moth that had replaced her heart—though he referred to it as ‘one of those creepy moth things with eyes on its wings,’ but Adrien was willing to let that go. By the end, Alya had constructed a fairly accurate depiction of Nathalie, and she easily applied her illusion to Luka.

Luka took a deep breath. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” He asked in Nathalie’s voice. It was strange to hear it with none of the authority or sharpness.

“Clara must have a way for Nathalie to contact her.” Alya said. “I’ll stick close behind you, so that way the illusion doesn’t wear off.”

“I’m going with you. I should be there, in case this doesn’t work, and Clara doesn’t buy that you’re Nathalie.” Adrien said. Without pausing to entertain a dissenting opinion, he had already transformed into a cat.

Luka shrugged. He walked around the wall, Adrien trotting close on his heels and Alya a few steps back. He eventually located a microphone dangling over the side of the wall. He tapped it a couple of times before Clara spoke. “Who is that? Is it you, Nat?”

He hesitated, trying to think of what Nathalie would say. “Don’t call me Nat, Miss Nightingale.” He said in her voice.

“So serious and mysterious!” Clara said. “Come ‘round, and see the girl bound.”

The wall dropped, startling Luka. He stepped inside the fort carefully, and he glanced at Adrien. “You’ll have to lead us there.”

Adrien took the lead, leading them forward. Alya seemed to be weakening, so when Luka started climbing the stairs, Adrien climbed up her leg and rested on her shoulders. He cleared his mind and created a psychic link with her, boosting her raw magical strength. She smiled at him. “Thank you, Félix.”

Luka reached the door. He knocked, subconsciously working a beat into it. It opened a few moments later. “Nathalie! Thanks for coming, and I appreciate the drumming!” Clara pointed and winked, a pleasant smile on her face.

“I don’t have a key. It was practical.” He said.

“The master didn’t give you a key? How could that be?”

“I was in the area. This was too important to postpone.” She said. Luka pushed on the door to open it more. Clara moved out of the way, so she didn’t see that interacting with the door weaken Alya’s illusion. Luka hid his hand, and with the other, he pointed at the cage. “This is the girl?”

“Ha! Or a very striking clone.” Clara folded her arms across her chest. “Just once, I wish you’d throw me a bone.”

“Trust isn’t easy to come by.” Luka said. He motioned to the cage. “Go now. Get that open and the girl unlocked.”

Clara opened the cage for him. She entered the cage and started to unweave the magic keeping Marinette bound. “Are you sure? Without these cords, her magic will regenerate. Binding is the cure.”

“That will take time. I’m certain that I can handle a young girl, no matter her lineage.” He said.

Clara smiled. “I believe that, I do! Besides, this little one is too untrained to pull much of a coup.” She unshackled Marinette. Once she was free, Marinette tried weakly to bat Clara’s hands away. Luka worried that she would struggle, and he hesitated, afraid that she would struggle and expose him. “Afraid she’ll run after all? A task this important can’t be considered small.” Clara grabbed a rope and bound her hands, and then offered the rest to him. “Can’t expect much fuss from a witch on a leash. She’s still too weak to do magic, capeesh?”

Luka forced a smile. “I’m at least impressed with your ability to rhyme anything with leash.” He took the rope, and he tried to get Marinette to walk. When she wouldn’t, he dragged her, gently, towards the door.

“I should return to the tent. By now they must be wondering where I went!” Clara said.

Luka saw his chance. “I’ll remain here and try to secure transportation. It will be more discreet than trying to drag her through Cercueil.” He looked at Marinette and waved his hand in front of his mouth. “I’m going to get you out of here, but I need you to cooperate.” He whispered in his own voice. He waved his hand again as Clara turned.

Marinette blinked. “The boy from the circus…?”

“You didn’t take the—” Clara said, apparently not having heard either of them. Before she could finish, a crystal began to glow. She seemed confused, and walked over to it. Lo and behold, an image of Nathalie appeared.

The real Nathalie couldn’t see her fake counterpart. “Clara, circumstances outside of our control have delayed me. I will need you to keep Cheng’s daughter detained for a few nights longer.”

“Nathalie! But you’re already here! And if you’re not—” Clara said.

Luka picked up Marinette, almost completely dispelling the illusion. “Alya, Félix, run!” He shouted. He sprinted for the door, Marinette holding onto him for dear life.

Adrien jumped off of Alya’s shoulders. She tried to grab him, but he transformed in midair. He landed harsh on the stair, hurting his ankle, but he was able to draw his staff. Adrien sent a fireball at Clara, knocking her off her balance. He spun his staff and slammed the shaft as hard as he could into her head, knocking her clean out. Adrien turned and pushed Alya a bit as Luka and Marinette ran down the stairs. “Go, go, _go!_ ”

The four of them sprinted out of the tower, Adrien lagging behind because of his ankle. Alya looked over her shoulder. “What’s going to happen to Clara?” She asked.

“She’s fine! She’s just knocked out!” Adrien said. “Just keep running!”

It felt like an eternity, but eventually, they escaped Fort Gossamer. They didn’t stop running, however, until they reached the edge of Cercueil, near the West Road. Luka put Marinette down on a rock, and they all got a chance to catch their breath.

There was a long period of silence. “For what it’s worth,” Luka said as he looked at Adrien and Alya, “I think it went very well up until that last part.”

Alya frowned at him, but Adrien let out a light chuckle. He stood and sat on his knees, looking at Marinette with caring eyes. “Are you okay, my lady?” He asked quietly.

“I’m… I guess fine isn’t really what I am, but I’m alive, so I guess it could be worse.” Or better, she thought bitterly. Marinette looked at the others. “How did you even find me? Even _I_ didn’t know where Clara had taken me.”

“Do you remember Tom and Sabine? Luka convinced them to perform a ritual that revealed your location.” Adrien explained as he offered her the broomstick.

“And it looks like it worked!” A new voice said. Adrien grabbed his staff and stepped between Marinette and the voice’s source. But, when he saw that it was Tom, he relaxed. “We saw you run through the market, and Sabine suggested I see if any of you were hurt.”

“If you were going to stick around, why didn’t you help?” Alya asked.

“Sabine was in the army, but she has many bad memories of the fort. It was kinder to stay behind.” Tom said.

Alya accepted this. “Come on, Félix, help me get your things into the wagon!” She said, dragging him along with her.

“Thank you for all your help!” Adrien said as she dragged him.

Tom looked at Luka. “It doesn’t look like she was hurt. I’m tending to her, though.” He said. Tom started to walk away. “You really gave your friend a scare.” He shook his head before she could reply. “I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m Luka.”

“I’m… M-M-Marie.” She said.

“I know who you are, M-M-Marie,” Luka teased. She blushed and avoided his eyes. “Sorry. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. She looked to her lap, her eyes tracing the enchantment. “Tom, wait!” She called out. Marinette stood, her knees shaking, and she walked over to Tom. “Thank you. Without you, who knows what would have happened to me?”

Tom smiled. “It was my honor. It’s good to help, when I can.” He looked up and rubbed his neck. “I guess it’s a good thing that the Craftmaster was unable to make that broom, huh?”

She nodded. “Tom… I want you to have mine. It can’t fly very high, since it’s more of a novice’s broom, but it’s fast, and it’ll take you where you need to go.” She said. Tom looked like he was going to refuse, but Marinette held it closer to him.

“Thank you. That’s very generous.” He said. “And Sabine will be glad to know that we can finally get moving.”

Marinette smiled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alya shouted, “Come on, Marie! We’ve got to get moving!”

“Better luck wherever you’re bound, Tom.” She said. She ran for the wagon. It was already moving when she reached it, but Luka lifted her up and put her on the steps. “Are you coming, too?” She asked, hope in her eyes.

He smiled as he walked along the wagon. “I wish that I could, but I’ve got to meet up with my sister in Châtdurat.” He said. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.” He took her hand, wove their fingers together, and then stopped walking. Their hands unwove slowly. “You’re an amazing girl.”

Marinette felt her cheeks grown hot. She watched Luka as he became small, the wagon moving slowly south.

And in turn, Luka watched the wagon. He didn’t tear his eyes away until Tom held his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

He looked at his arm. “It hurts, and it hurts to talk about how it hurts.” He said.

“I’m sorry. After what happened to Nadja… she had to cut down on the risks she was taking.” Tom said.

“I understand. Like I said, I’m not sharp over it.” He shrugged. “Besides, if I don’t talk about it, it doesn’t hurt, and my family is pretty good at not talking about stuff.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where are you off to?”

“Nidesouris. Wang hasn’t sent his letter yet, and it should have arrived days ago…”

“You think your daughter might be in trouble?”

“Possibly, though he might just be preoccupied. He does have a life outside of us, after all.” Tom said. He hugged Luka goodbye. “Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. You too, Dupain.” Luka watched as Tom got on the broom and flew away. He offered one last look to the west, smiled, and then turned east towards Veràsoie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooo! each chapter has an illustration now. exciting! also i am considering making this a series? thoughts?


	13. It Runs in the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hands-Off Mom Lets Kids Create Own Psychological Issues

The wagon had been pulled to the side of the road, and Alya’s mother Marlena had finished cooking dinner. Alya was eating heartily, but Adrien just twirled his spoon in the bowl, watching the wagon. Marinette was still inside, despite repeated reminders that dinner was ready.

Alya followed his gaze. “Is she okay?” Adrien didn’t reply. “Félix.” There was still no response, so after a minute, Alya leaned forward and smacked his arm. He spun around. “I said, is she okay?”

Adrien glanced at the wagon. To be honest, he wasn’t sure. She had never acted this way around him before. But he didn’t want to worry Alya, so he said, “I’m sure it’s just the stress making her sick. I’ll go check on her.” He scooped out soup into a bowl and carried it into the wagon. He was limping still, causing Alya to watch him in concern. He waved her off and ducked into the wagon.

The inside of the wagon was warm, and quaintly decorated. The cots were on either side, and were built into the wall, supported by drawers. Marinette was laying in the one on Adrien’s right hand side. A purple curtain with silver stars was pulled back by a black cord, but could be drawn for privacy. She was just staring at the wall, her expression pained but otherwise blank.

“I brought you dinner.” He said with forced cheer. Marinette didn’t even turn to look at him. He sighed, put the bowl on the shelf between the two cots, and pulled a chair over. “You’ve barely spoken since we left Cercueil. How are you holding up?”

Silence. Horrible, deafening silence.

Was she mad at him, for not protecting her, like he’d sworn he’d do? He needed to distract her. “You know… we should invest in a wagon like this. I have some teeth saved, and it would be better than walking everywhere.” Nothing. Her suitcase started vibrating. “Juleka and Rose are calling. You missed your check in again.” He said. He waited a moment. “Marinette, I can’t answer it for you…”

She said nothing, and eventually, the vibrating stopped.

“Gods, it’s been two nights. You haven’t had anything to eat since the morning after Atropos fed on you.” Adrien stared at her with big eyes. “Marinette, please. You _have_ to eat something.”

Marinette finally moved. She wiggled her hand free and reached out blindly. Adrien quickly grabbed the bowl and held it where she could reach it. Her hand shook for a moment, her fingers brushing against ceramic… before ignoring it entirely to yank the cord off the certain and pull it closed so he couldn’t see her.

Adrien wanted to be angry. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and he counted down from five in his head. He let it out, creating a thick fog that almost obscured his face. “I’ll leave this here.” He said, putting the bowl back on the shelf. He looked at the curtain, and sighed again. “I’m not sure what to say, but… I am here, if you need to talk.” He left the wagon without another word.

Marinette still didn’t move. She did close her eyes and thought longfully for a time when things were easier, or seemed to be.

 

* * *

 

Her plaited hair trailed behind her as she ran, occasionally slapping her back. She could hear the children behind her, laughing as they called out her name. They shouted for her to come back, but she didn’t turn. She ran into the restaurant. It was dark, with gold accents, deep colored hardwood and seemingly covered in smoke, likely from the cigars of the men sitting at the bar. She said ‘hello’ to the regulars, and then raced up the stairs. She entered the living room to find Uncle Wang sitting on the couch, looking despondent.

_Uncle Wang?_ Oh, xiao Netta, I… _What’s wrong, Uncle?_ I…

He looked at the letter in his hands. Uncle Wang crumpled it up, and he threw it towards the hearth. She moved to grab it, but Wang stood first, and he kicked it into the flames.

Marinette… I’ve just learned that your parents have died. _What?! But you always said—_ Wǒ zhīdào wǒ shuōle shénme! _You said they were going to come home!_

She wouldn’t listen to anything else he had to say on the matter. She sprinted up the stairs, tripping over her feet. She ignored the pain in her legs as she pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind her. She threw herself onto her bed, where she just cried and cried. The door opened.

Xiao Netta, please, I want to talk to you. _Go away!_ Please listen! _I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!_ Marinette— _You said that maman and papa would come home! You lied!_ Marinette… _I don’t want to see you! You lied to me! You **lied!**_

She cried for hours after Wang shut the door. She cried until she could cry no more, and then she curled up into a ball. She didn’t fall asleep, as much as she wanted to, and instead found her secret stash. She dug through the gifts she had saved for her parents, as well as drawings and lists of things she wanted to do with them. She grabbed the box and snuck downstairs. Uncle Wang had gone to bed, so she approached the hearth. It was still going, since it was too cold in the Hinterlands to put it out entirely. She stoked the flames, and then dumped the contents into the fire. After a moment and a half, she realized what she had done.

_Oh no! No! No, this is a disaster!_

 

* * *

 

Sabine stirred. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling the wind blowing through her hair. She looked up to see that she’d fallen asleep against Tom as he was flying the broomstick Marie had given them. She smiled at his warmth, then sort of pushed away to stretch the stiffness out of her back.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Tom said, looking back at her. “How are you feeling now that you’ve slept?”

She rubbed her temple, feeling the beginning of a migraine coming on. “I had hoped for a more recent memory,” she admitted. She looked at her hand, pausing to search for something to say. “Are we close?”

“I had to take us the long way around. The North Road takes us right past the road to Veràsoie, and it’s just too risky.” Tom said. “But, we’re almost there.”

About fifteen minutes later, Tom and Sabine approached the west gate of Nidesouris. Tom brought them down gently, but they didn’t have to go far before learning that the town was still in a state of shock. Corpses were lined up in the town square as people sorted through the dead. There must have been more than a hundred dead bodies, all burned and smelling of magic. And poetically, sitting on la Symphonie, was a murder of crows and a single, solitary vulture.

“Gods above!” Tom breathed, covering his mouth.

“Hurry! We have to find out what happened!” Sabine said. They ran into the fray, trying to get someone to explain. Most people shied away from them, tears rolling down their faces as they nursed fresh wounds. Tom couldn’t tear his eyes from the dead, and eventually had to excuse himself. Sabine watched him go, but persevered through her fear. She finally found someone trying to impose order over chaos.

“Will everyone please just step back!” She said, holding out one hand while keeping her clipboard close to her chest with the other. She turned to face Sabine when she approached. Her hair was bright orange, but streaked with blue, and her teal eyes seemed tired. Her dress was black and pink, stitched together with thick white string, and her lips were painted with a black heart. “I’m sorry; if you’re looking for a loved one, you must get back in line!”

“No, I…” Sabine paused. “I’m just a traveler. I want to know what happened here.”

The woman frowned. “Oh, it was awful! I was in the middle of teaching my history class when we heard screaming… when I went out to investigate, I saw a woman using magic to butcher the townsfolk!” She said. She pulled her hand in. “Terrified, I pulled my class inside and led them to a safe room, and for a while we thought the fighting was over… only for her to resurface and kill again as we tried to sort through the massacre.”

Sabine frowned deeply. “How many died?” She asked quietly.

“We… don’t know.” She said. She looked down at the clipboard. “We’re a such a small town that we don’t really have a formal government. We don’t have a registry of who lives here.” It was part of the reason Sabine had asked Wang to move there; being so close to Veràsoie was a risk, but there was no way to tell if anyone actually lived there. “We’re only now getting our bearings. So far, we’ve counted a hundred and sixteen bodies. Some of them, children.”

More blood on her hands, she thought. “Listen, I am a traveler, but I came here for a reason. I’m…” She couldn’t confess who she was, as it might cause problems. She was fairly famous. “I’m Wang’s daughter. We’ve been estranged, but I wanted to start fresh. Is he… alive?”

She looked down sadly. “The woman… took some of the bodies when she left. Some people who were confirmed dead before she had actually left were missing once the second wave came.” She looked out over the sea of corpses. “If Wang died in the initial or second attack, his body was stolen.”

“And what of my…” Daughter, she thought mournfully, “…my cousin?”

“Wang’s ward? Poor thing…” The woman said, like a offhand comment rather than an actual state of her being. “Marinette is missing too. Such a sweet girl…”

Sabine felt her heart sink. It fell and fell until it hit her stomach, and there it was crushed by a weight worse than a thousand bricks. She held la Symphonie for support and held her stomach. “Please,” she begged, “is there any hope that they’re still alive?”

The woman looked at her. She put her hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, madame—”

“I have to know!” She shouted.

The woman hesitated. “Wang was a fixture in Nidesouris. When it was safe, we searched his home. He and Marinette were gone… but there was too much blood left behind.” She looked away.

Sabine let out a single sob, before covering her mouth and looking away. “Thank you,” was all she managed to squeak out before she ran away from the square. Sabine ran for the restaurant, following the path laid out for her in her dream, and then up into the living room above it.

It was completely destroyed. There was broken furniture scattered about, and shattered glass crunched under her boots. But the blood—it reeked of blood, dried and coagulated and so plentiful it looked like a river. The woman was right; there was too much blood for it to have come from one person.

Sabine shook as she moved for the stairs. She held onto the wall as she persevered, climbing up even as her body begged her not to. She entered Marinette’s bedroom, finding it in disarray. But, she realized quickly, there was no blood.

Sabine searched the room. There was no clothing in the armoire, but makeup and jewelry were left on the vanity. She put her hands on the windowsill and looked out over the town as it started to rain.

“Sab,” Tom said, taking her shoulder in his hand. She jumped, not having heard him come in, and then turned. “This is… really, really bad.” He looked back at the door. “I went through Wang’s things. All our letters are gone. Gabriel will know of your agents…”

“Are his belongings missing?” Sabine asked.

“I didn’t look too carefully, but other than being torn apart during the search, I don’t think the assailant took anything.” He said. “It’d be hard to tell.”

Sabine walked over to Marinette’s wardrobe. “Look. Almost all of her clothes are missing.” She said. “But her makeup and jewelry are still here.” She dug through the jewelry box. “Except the locket heirloom, naturally…”

“So, there’s a chance Marinette could be alive?” Tom said, hope making his ears perk up.

Still after so long, Sabine thought he was so cute. But her adoring smile faded as quickly as it arrived. “If she is… I doubt that she made it far. With the bind on her wrist, she wouldn’t have enough magic to fly away from Nidesouris, and the woman I spoke to made it sound like the attack was surprising.” She held the windowsill as she looked out at the citizens trying to sort through the dead. “She was probably knocked out and stolen with the dead…”

“You think Gabriel has her?” Tom asked.

“Well, it only makes sense.” She said as she pushed off the windowsill. She looked at him. “The last time we went so long without being discovered, Nadja…”

Tom spun around and waved her off. “I don’t want to talk about that.” He said. “If Gabriel has Marinette, we have to go and get her!”

“Tom, I know you’re upset, but we can’t charge off blind!” Sabine said, catching his arm. “Marinette’s bind is impossible to break. The only people who were capable of lifting it are you, me, and Uncle—”

“If we do nothing, she’s going to suffer at his hands!” Tom shouted.

“We don’t know anything about la Chrysalide! Gabriel will be keeping her where we can’t reach—he knows that we’d be coming!” Sabine argued. “He knows that unless one of us lifts that bind, he can’t steal her magic from her!” She grabbed Tom’s hands and made him look at her. “If we go into the Frozen Bog, we’re playing right into his hands. He’ll kill you, sacrifice me, and who knows what he’d do to Marinette? He certainly won’t let her go.”

“So, what, you’re just going to leave her there?”

“She’s bait, just like Bà was.” Sabine said. “I know, I know that this is hard, but if we don’t give in, he doesn’t get what he wants.” She said. With a sly grin, she added, “That bind is some of the best cursing I’ve ever done.”

Tom sighed. “He’s going to investigate ways to break it.” He said.

“No more than Marinette herself has, I’d bet.” Sabine said with a shrug. “It will only react to our living genetic code. Even if he tried to parse it with her hair or blood, once it leaves her body, the bind considers it dead.”

Tom didn’t look so sure.

Sabine shifted to stand on Marinette’s bed frame so she could see his face. “If I thought this was anyplace other than the safest place to let our daughter grow up, I never would have let her leave my arms.” She said. “Do you believe me?”

“We’re her parents. We’re supposed to protect her.” Tom said.

“And we are! I firmly believe that Gabriel will never break the binding, and I doubt that Emilie will let him get away with hurting her for very long.”

Tom thought for a moment before he smiled. “Hey, maybe Marinette and the Agreste boy are friends, now, too.” Sabine smiled, glad to have convinced him. “Gods, what was his name…?”

 

* * *

 

“Adrien.”

He stirred, sitting up in his cot. Adrien had to take a moment to remind himself where he was. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the side. Marinette was standing there, looking sheepish in her black Empire-style nightgown. “Having trouble sleeping, princess?” He asked with a smile.

“C-can I lay with you for a while?” She asked, her face turning hot pink. She started waving her hands madly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to! I-I only meant…”

Adrien moved over so there was room in his cot for her to lay down. Marinette curled up next to him, and almost unconsciously, Adrien pulled her closer. Her face grew hotter, and he realized what he’d done and moved his hands away. “Sorry,” he said with a blush. After a moment, he frowned. “Are you feeling better now?” She just sort of shrugged.

“I guess. I was just… thinking about some things that happened in Fort Gossamer.” She said.

“Like what?”

Marinette’s face became pensive. “When Clara called Nathalie to tell her where I was, she…” She frowned deeply. “She called her, ‘your Majesty,’ and I can’t figure out why.” She looked back at Adrien. “I was thinking it might have something to do with your father. Has anyone ever mistaken Nathalie for your father’s wife?”

He chuckled. “Only my entire life. Mother said that Father knew Nathalie first; she said they met when Nathalie was about thirteen.” He frowned. “I don’t know how old he was at that time, of course, but I know he was an adult, because he was serving as a soldier.”

“So Nathalie probably didn’t serve with him.” Marinette hypothesized.

“Father only served during the War on Autumn and the Rebellion, so you’re probably right.” Adrien agreed. “It begs the question, though; what happened between the two of them that resulted in such fierce loyalty?”

Marinette shook her head. “I don’t know, though I did learn that my mother joined up with Fémurre because they were directly opposing Kōrinoha.”

Adrien’s eyes sparkled at this. “I know about that place! It’s an island off the coast of the Storm Gulf. It’s the only place in the Summerlands where it snows!”

“It’s also one of the Hidden Republic’s oldest enemies. They’ve invaded more times than are recorded, each one bloodier than the last.” She said drearily. “I think one of the Kōrinohani soldiers raped a friend of hers, and she fled to avoid execution after she killed him.”

“It sounds like that soldier got exactly what he deserved.” Adrien said.

“The way Uncle told it, I thought she’d had a much less… _pragmatic_ reason, I guess is the nice way to put it.”

Adrien frowned. “She wanted to help her friends and family! It wasn’t like she had a great many options. Fighting alone might have done more harm than good.” She seemed to accept his interpretation, so she went quiet for a few minutes. He frowned at her. “You aren’t going to go quiet on me again, are you?” She smiled and shook her head, but didn’t speak. “You scared me. It was like you were… gone.”

Marinette looked away. “It’s happened every so often since I was little. Uncle called them ‘quiet days,’ because I go… quiet.” She confessed. “Adrien, I just feel so useless. This is the second time I’ve been captured.”

“My father needs you alive to complete his mission. The easiest way is to trick and kidnap you, so you don’t put up a fight or make a scene.” Adrien reasoned. “And you’re not useless. Nobody is.”

“I have no idea what to look for! I can’t even defend myself.”

“That’s why I’m here! To help you train, and to protect you.” Adrien said. He shook his head. “I never should have let you go off by yourself! I promise, I won’t leave you alone like that again.”

Marinette shook her head. “Adrien… you should probably book passage for Yinshui when we get to the Necropolis. I’m not worth all the trouble you’re putting yourself through.”

Adrien took her shoulders. “Marinette, _no._ ” He commanded in such a way that she felt no choice but to obey. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I asked to join you in Maudite. I _know_ what’s right.” He looked at her with begging eyes. “Please, don’t _ever_ think that your life isn’t worth fighting for!”

Marinette looked deep into his eyes. There was such an _intensity_ to them, especially considering that Adrien was fairly low-key most of the time. She smiled, a bit embarrassed that he was so passionate about something regarding her. It faded slowly. “We need to figure out a way to identify Gabriel’s minions. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep blundering into traps.” She said.

“I could shapeshift and go ahead of you anywhere you plan to go, to look for clues.” He suggested.

“Clara saw you! Once she tells Nathalie that you helped rescue me, his agents will know to look for you, too!” Marinette said. Adrien cringed when he realized that she was right. “Even if he’s mad at you for running away, he _must_ still love you… I’m sure he wants you back.”

“I don’t know… he loved your mother like a sister, but as soon as he knew that she had a power that would make him unstoppable, he tried to kill her.” He said. Sadly, he added, “Does he love me more? Who’s to say?”

“Adrien, I’m so sorry…” She said.

He shook his head. “It’s okay, Marinette. I accepted a long time ago that my father is never going to change.”

“I thought you said your names were Félix and Marie.” A voice said. Adrien and Marinette shot up, scared by the new voice. Alya was standing in the threshold, confused and hurt. “How could you lie to me? Who are you people really?”

 

* * *

 

Tom and Sabine left Marinette’s bedroom sadly. There was a sense of defeat that had become all too common, but it seemed more profound. They had always believed that one day, they could return to Nidesouris and live with their daughter as a family, but now the idea seemed far away and impossible.

They had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when they saw the woman from the town square. They jumped, and so did she. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude!” She said, covering her heart. “I was just curious, because I was under the impression that Marinette had no family other than her uncle, but then you arrived, and…” She shook her head. “Is it true? Marinette isn’t dead, just missing?”

Tom looked at Sabine. “I…” He muttered.

The woman looked at Sabine, too. “You aren’t really her cousin, are you?”

“No. I am General Sabine Cheng.” She confessed. “I am Wang’s niece, but—”

“General Cheng of the _Rebellion?!_ ” The woman exclaimed. “But you disappeared sixteen years ago, along with Colonel Agreste!” This didn’t seem to bother her for long. “Oh, I am so happy you’re here! I’m Caline Bustier. Are you going to investigate the attack for us?”

“We already know who attacked you. A servant of Colonel Agreste, though I’m not sure which one.” Sabine said.

“But, why would—”

“Miss Bustier, there are some things that just aren’t safe to tell you.” Tom said.

Caline paused, and then she smiled with her eyes shut. “Oh, I think I understand. You’re Marinette’s parents, aren’t you?” She asked. “You say that it’s not safe, but how do you expect me to stand by when things are going to Hell, and yet finally making sense…?”

Tom looked at Sabine before turning his attention to Caline. “We need a list of the dead, so we can sort through who was taken.”

“It will take a few nights, but you will have it.” Caline said. She smiled. “And I can help you yet again. There are rumors that a young girl escaped Nidesouris by broomstick, just before the first wave finished.” She frowned. “Now, I can’t prove that this was actually Marinette, but her body is missing, so I can’t prove it wasn’t either.”

“I can!” Sabine snapped. “Marinette can’t use magic!”

A wave of realization washed over them. “Unless Wang unbound her before telling her to escape!” Tom said. “We have to find her!”

Sabine frowned. “But, the letters never came, and all the pictures are either old or missing! We don’t even know what she looks like!”

Caline stepped forward. “But I do! Let me look for your daughter!” She volunteered. “She trusts me, since I can’t use magic either! I’m sure that I can convince her to follow me to somewhere safe!”

There was a long pause before either replied. “Caline, I’m taking the calculated risk to trust you. I want you to find Marinette and bring her to Yinshui if she isn’t already there.” Sabine said. “Give me your wrist.” Caline obliged. Sabine closed her eyes and held her hand over her wrist.

Caline looked at Tom. “What’s happening?”

Sabine muttered under her breath before drawing a circle in the air around Caline’s wrist, a black string following its path. It clamped down on her wrist hard, and Caline yelped loudly. The Hidden Language character «切» appeared in gold on her pulse point, and the black band grew tighter until a red ring of blood stood out against her skin. “If you tell anyone, and I mean _anyone,_ ” Sabine warmed her in a growl, “about us, about my necromancy, about my daughter’s location…” She pointed to the character. “This binding will grow tighter and tighter until it _snaps off your hand._ ”

Sabine let go of her hand, and Caline pulled it back. She held her wrist, the pressure already intense. It subsided after a minute, but a very long one. Regardless, she smiled. “Don’t worry, general. I won’t let any harm come to my student!”

 

* * *

 

Gabriel rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So, your suspicions were correct after all.” He said as he turned to look at Nathalie. “My own flesh and blood has turned against me.”

Nathalie frowned. “It would appear so.”

He folded his arms behind his back. “I’ll need to approach this cautiously. I don’t want Adrien to be excessively hurt in future exchanges.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Though I suppose if he resists, breaking his leg might build character.”

Nathalie grabbed her stone from her pocket. “Shall I inform our agents to be on the lookout for Adrien as well?”

“No. I need time to consider which one of them would be best suited to bringing him home safely.” He smiled at her. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Nathalie smiled and hid her blush behind her clipboard. She gathered her composure quickly. “I will get to work on drawing up a list of agents best suited for the task, for your consideration, sir.”

Gabriel nodded. “Thank you. That will be all.” He turned to look at his map as Nathalie excused herself. She walked up the stairs, no longer flinching at the creaking or distorted wood. She took the left path to go to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall to the left, but paused before the only door on the right.

She cautiously opened the door to the master bedroom. Gabriel’s room had two levels. The first level had his bed, nailed to the uneven floor, as well as some chairs and a table with books piled on it. The second level held the library, as well as a small armory. Hanging from the ceiling was a massive light fixture, glowing like hot amber, and circled by moths. Occasionally, one would fly too close, and it would fall to the ground, dead.

Nathalie ducked inside the bathroom. She walked into a dusty corner and ripped up one of the tiles. She removed the treasure hidden underneath, unknown to all but her. She carried it gently to the mirror, where she looked at her reflection before placing the treasure, a black tiara, on her head.

It was designed like a clock hands. There was a ruby shaped like a heart in the center, and upon that heart sat a silver crown. A thin chain dangled another ruby in her face, between her eyebrows. Nathalie looked at her reflection for a minute, but only a minute, before hiding the tiara again. Then, she left the room.

She was startled by a figure sitting in the massive window across the room from the bathroom. Nathalie felt the wings of the moth beat faster, and she tried to calm herself. The window overlooked the bog, and if one could put aside the lopsided view and the bog bodies, it was actually a nice overlook. “Madame Agreste,” she said awkwardly, addressing her back and not her face. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Is that right?” Emilie said, her voice more inquisitive than a growl might have been, but close enough to it. Her long blonde hair was loose, but pushed away from her face and elegant horns. Her black tail hung down from the window seat, the tip scratching at the hardwood. She wore a plain white nightgown, so she almost looked like a ghost. She turned just enough that Nathalie could see her profile… and the bloody bandages wrapped around her eyes. “I don’t see much of anything anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of the dialogue in this reads like the english subtitles to an anime, but thats ok


	14. Return to Your Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Grandmother Doesn’t Have Heart To Tell Family Any Dipshit Can Make Lasagna

Alya listened politely while Adrien and Marinette stumbled over a story they only had a fraction of. She was patient as Marinette explained her hereditary abilities, removing her leather glove and unraveling her bandages to show her the markings. She was silent as Adrien explained that he was a deserter, abandoning both his father and the ignoble cause he had forced him into. She looked at her hands as they clarified that Clara had not targeted Marinette because she _thought_ that she looked like Cheng’s daughter, but because she _was,_ and if Gabriel got what he wanted, the whole world would suffer.

Then, it was their turn to be silent. They waited with bated breath as Alya processed everything they had said. She wrung her hands, mulled over what to say, and then shook her head with a smile. “Wow,” she muttered before looking up. “Your problems make my problems look small.” She chuckled, but her smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. “So, what is your plan? How are you going to defeat him?”

Marinette looked at her hands. “I don’t have one.” She admitted. “So far, we’re still struggling to find a way identify his agents.”

“So, Nathalie and Clara weren’t his only agents.” Alya asked. “Do you know any others?”

Marinette looked to Adrien. He sighed after a thoughtful pause. “None that I remember clearly. Most of them travel, since Cheng never stayed in one place for very long.” He said. “That didn’t give me a lot of time to get to know them…” His face twisted pensively. “And it’s not like you go around announcing yourself when you work for the traitor.”

“Uh, you might want to stop calling him ‘the traitor,’” Alya said, and for a moment their blood ran cold, as they feared they’d once again trusted the wrong person. “It’s a dead giveaway that you’re his enemies! You might want to… I don’t know. Give him a nickname?”

Adrien smiled as Marinette put a hand on her heart and let out a breath she’d been holding. “We’ll keep that in mind,” Adrien said politely.

Alya sighed. “You two…” here, she paused. “You don’t really have your act together.” She folded one of her legs over the other and leaned back. “Who do you have helping you?”

“Rose and Juleka are watching the North Road.” Marinette said. “If I need advice, I suppose I could contact Uncle again, but the further away from Nidesouris we get, the harder it will be.” She looked at Adrien again. “His spirit will be bound to the place where he died.”

“That’s it?” Alya asked. Neither Marinette nor Adrien spoke. “…two watchmen and a ghost? Am I hearing this right?”

Adrien sighed. “What are we supposed to do? We can’t exactly turn to anyone.”

Alya looked like she was going to speak when the wagon lurched. Marinette yelped as it shook, and things began to fall off the shelves as it collapsed on one side. Alya fell off her chair, and Adrien was tossed to the ground. “What happened?” He asked as he tried to sit up.

Marinette stood shakily and offered her hand to him as Alya rushed out the door. “Maman! Is everything okay?” Alya shouted as she sprinted towards the box seat where the wheel was.

Marlena was cursing under her breath. Like Alya, Marlena was a dark elf, her skin dark and warm like earth and her even darker hair pulled back. She shut the engine off and yanked the crystal from the ignition. She walked towards Alya and jumped down. “I’m fine, Alya. We must have hit a rock during the turn.” Marlena walked around the wagon and inspected the back left-hand wheel. It was, in fact, broken, but the rest of the wheels were wrapped in thorny vines. “Good grief. We might as well set camp!”

The teenagers set up camp while Marlena got to work replacing the wheel. Adrien used his magic to set a fire, and after Marlena turned down both his assistance and Marinette’s, he sat down next to it to warm his hands. Marinette was reading her spell book. Alya watched them for a moment, and then looked at her mother. She approached them. “Hey, Félix and—Adrien and Marinette, sorry.” She said, catching their attention. She was quiet for a moment. “Listen, I know you had your reasons for lying, but…” Alya frowned. “…But I’m not comfortable with this any longer. I think you should… go.”

In shock, Adrien looked at Marinette, who stood suddenly. “I’m so sorry we lied to you!” She said, taking her hands. Alya pulled them away. “But, please, don’t turn us away! There are so few people who we can trust!”

“I’m not turning you out in the middle of nowhere. The road to the Necropolis is about an hour that way, and about a three-night hike south after that.” She said. “And, if I’m being honest, I’d like to help you, but…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry. You two don’t know what you’re doing. I have to think of my family, my sisters. This… kind of seems like something that’s going to get a lot of people burned.”

It was clear that Marinette was upset, and Adrien was too, but Alya was right. As depressing as the thought was, she was right. Marinette had no plan, Adrien couldn’t identify agents as easily as he thought, and both of them had a lot to learn about her magic. “I understand. Thank you for bringing us this far.” She said. They collected their things and walked away from the camp, into the thick, tangled thorns surrounding the road. A path had been beaten into it, and it looked somewhat fresh by the shriveled vines on the ground. Fresh enough that it hadn’t decomposed or frozen over, so fresh.

There was a long time where neither spoke. “Are you feeling okay after what Alya said?” Adrien asked when the silence became overwhelming.

She shrugged. “Besides the mini heart attack I had when she asked us to stop calling him a traitor?” She asked as she turned to face him. She was smiling, so he smiled too. “I’m fine. I don’t think we have a lot to fear in people our age.” She looked away. “I don’t think she’ll turn us in if anyone asks her, at least.”

“Maybe, but we can’t ignore her parents.” Adrien said. He looked over his shoulder. “Do you think Marlena might have hit something on purpose?”

“She didn’t seem concerned that we had to leave Cercueil so quickly, and she didn’t stop us when she saw us leave, so… no, I don’t think so.” She frowned. “Why? Do you?”

“No. I’m just… worried about you.” Adrien confessed. Marinette avoided his gaze. “What spell were you reading?”

She looked at the grimoire in her hands. She opened it to an ice spell. “You mentioned that I might have an affinity for water magic, but ice has a few more practical combat uses.”

“Oh! You’re worried about being attacked again?” Adrien asked. She nodded. He took the staff from his back and used it to push the thorns out of the way. “After you, my lady.” He said, and after a quick walk, they had found a clearing. Adrien put his things down and instructed her to do the same. “Clear your mind. You’re still new to sorcery, so try to picture a river in your head.”

Marinette closed her eyes and pictured the river, per his instructions.

He stood next to her. “Remember what I told you. Let your magic flow through you.” He instructed. “But instead of _pushing,_ like with force, you’re going to _pull._ ” Adrien held his hand out, pressed his fingers together, and pulled his hand up. A single, snake-like stream of water was conjured from nothing. Marinette watched in awe as he commanded it effortlessly. “Water finds itself opposed to fire, so this doesn’t come naturally to me, but you get the idea.”

“Is using resources readily available to you save more energy in the long run?” She asked.

“Some think so. I’ve never felt much of a difference.” Adrien confessed. He let the water fall, and it disappeared. “Your turn!”

Marinette focused on the river in her mind as her chest started to glow. She tried to mimic Adrien’s movements, to no avail. She pictured the bubbling water as it ran over the stones and eroded them smooth; she imagined the way it would have babbled. But it was wild, unaffected by her presence, even as it existed in her mind. Switching gears entirely, Marinette tried to picture a geyser, as that was water that moved up, like he wanted her to do. She held her palm out and tried the motion again, but still nothing happened. She couldn’t even get it to swirl. “Ugh!” She let her arms fall as she kicked a rock into the thorns.

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked as she stormed away from the clearing.

“I don’t… see how I’m supposed to do it!” She shouted. Adrien offered to show her again, but she shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean! When I perform rituals and brew potions and weave enchantments, I can see what I’m working with, and I _know_ what’s _supposed_ to happen!” She explained. “When I use force magic, I can picture myself lifting the object up, holding it in place!”

“And you can’t see how this spell works?” He asked.

“I tried thinking of… a geyser, because that shoots water out and that’s close to what you want me to do.” She said as she paced. “But with force, I can see myself doing it. I can pick up a stone and hold it in place as long as I want! I don’t have any control over when a geyser bursts, and even if I did… eventually, the water has to come down.”

“Oh, so you have trouble conjuring, then?” Adrien asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Is that a bad thing?” She asked.

“No, not really.” He said. “Everyone has strengths and weaknesses in magic. For instance, I can’t do what you do.”

She looked at her hand and frowned. “No one can do what I do…”

Adrien shrugged with a smile. “I mean, yes, that’s true, but I meant that I have trouble enchanting and performing magic rituals. I have trouble… thinking that far ahead. I’m much better at things that rely on instinct.” He put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders. “And it looks like you’re better at magic that requires forethought, the ability to know what you’re going to do before you do it, what it should do and how to make it do that. You’re a thinker, Marinette, which isn’t a bad thing.”

She pulled free of his grip. “But the power I command is sorcerous in nature! If I don’t learn how to control it, it’s going to destroy me!”

“You used a ritual to bring me back, didn’t you?” Adrien asked.

“But I only knew how to do that once I saw your blood on the floor. I saw that and knew I had to make the moon red, and that’s what I did…” Marinette explained. “I know that there must be more to this than that. Necromancy isn’t just talking to or bringing back the dead, it’s just the most famous part of it.” She sighed. “But I don’t know how to learn it.”

“Marinette, you can’t expect to master this overnight. It’s going to take a lot of hard work, and you had a severe handicap in your magic having been bound.” Adrien reasoned.

Marinette sighed. She looked down at the ground. “I know it was to keep me safe, and I’m sure it would have been dangerous to raise a child with so many enemies following her…” Marinette muttered, “But I wish that my mother had been around long enough to teach me how to do this.”

Adrien frowned and approached her. “Marinette…”

He tried to hug her, but she brushed past him. Marinette reached down for her grimoire. “We keep looking for the roa--” She started. In the middle of her sentence, one of the thorny vines grabbed her ankle and yanked her. Marinette yelped as it dragged her to the ground. Adrien grabbed his staff and used the arrowhead side to pine the vine down right beneath her foot, and then summoned fire to burn the rest away.

He helped her to her feet. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Marinette looked at her ankle and examined the vine. She carefully removed it, the thorns having dug into her skin. The wounds were shallow, at least. “Yeah, yeah. Fine,” She said, examining the vines. “Wasn’t the wagon stopped because vines had gotten tangled in the wheels?”

“I thought that it happened when the wagon hit the rock.” Adrien said.

Marinette frowned. “But now, the same vine just tried to drag me off.”

“You think that there’s a connection?”

“There has to be.” Marinette said. She looked off into the distance, and then smiled at him. “We should follow the thorns back to their source.” Before he could weigh in on the matter, Marinette grabbed her book and started to follow the thorns. He followed her diligently, keeping an eye on the thorns that seemed to slither around like snakes. Every so often, his eyes would flick up, and he noticed that as she walked, the thorny vines were still.

Further down the path of thorns, they discovered a circle of trees, much thicker than any others they had encountered in the Hinterlands. Unlike most of the barren, nearly dead trees, these were pine, their scent strong and trunks wide. Marinette had to turn to her side to squeeze through the narrow opening, and Adrien found that he wouldn’t fit at all. He had to shadow jump to join her on the other side. On the other side was a small cottage. At first it looked like a fairly average cottage with a grass roof and paned windows, but there were chicken legs on either side, and the smoke from the chimney blew _against_ the wind.

Marinette looked back. Sure enough, the thorns had led them here. She looked at Adrien, shrugged, and knocked on the door. The knock echoed inside the cottage, and all the lights inside went out within an instant. Even the bewitched smoke disappeared. The door slowly started to open, the hinges screaming, and Adrien instinctively put himself between Marinette and the cottage. But there was nothing, no sound or movement inside.

Adrien looked at her from over his shoulder. “Should we…?” He started, and he took a step closer.

Sharp stones rose from the ground and ensnared Adrien. Marinette barely had time to scream and reach for him before they sank as quickly as they appeared, dragging him down with them. “Adrien!” Marinette shouted as she fell to her knees. She started digging at the ground, desperate to save him, so she didn’t notice the thorny vines wrap around her ankles until they dragged her into the cottage.

She was forced into a chair, or what felt like a chair. The vines kept her legs bound, but invisible force kept her in the chair. The more she struggled, the tighter it became. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” a feminine voice hissed through the darkness. Her blood ran as cold as winter, yet she felt sweat gather on her brow. She squeezed her eyes shut. “What are you doing so far away from home?”

Marinette opened her eyes. “Huh?”

The lights had come back on. Standing across from her with a smug look on her face was an old elven woman. She, like all forest elves, had green skin, and her ears were long and had bumpy lobes. Her white hair was spiky and slicked back. She wore black fingerless gloves, a black dress with long sleeves, a short skirt and a mock turtleneck design, white tights with gold hard candies on the knees, and leather boots. Her green eyes were fixed on her, her smile expectant.

Marinette thought for a moment. Then, she noticed a golden amulet around her neck. The pendant depicted a sun, an uncommon sight in the Hinterlands, and after reaching to hold her own moon pendant, her eyes lit up. “ _Nonna!_ ” Marinette ran around the table to hug her grandmother.

“Marinetta!” Gina said. She pushed her away to look at her face. “My, my, look how big you’ve gotten! I haven’t seen you since you were a little baby.” She smiled happily. “I was going to visit you in Nidesouris, but I wanted it to be a surprise!” Gina giggled into her hand. “Though it looks like you were surprised, alright!”

Marinette had been smiling, but it fell at the mention of Nidesouris. “Nonna, there’s something you should know…”

“I’m sure it can wait! I have a present for you!” Gina said, presenting her with a small package wrapped in glittering paper. “Go on, open it!”

Marinette smiled awkwardly. “The only thing I really want is my friend back.” She said.

Gina tilted her head. “You mean the little demon boy?” She asked.

Marinette nodded. Gina looked up at her ceiling and snapped her fingers. Rocks appeared there, and Adrien fell out unceremoniously. He landed in the same chair Marinette had, face dirty and eyes wide with slight trauma, but he was otherwise unscathed. Marinette smiled at him. “Hi, Adrien.” She said. “This is my grandmother.”

He was quiet for a second. “Hey, Marinette.” He said, though his expression didn’t change. “Hey, Marinette’s grandmother.”

Gina nudged her with a sly grin. “He’s cute! Is this your boyfriend?” She asked.

Marinette’s face burned hot. “ _Nonna!_ ” She scolded. She shook her head. “Please, I have to tell you something.”

Gina waved her off. “Marinetta, I haven’t seen you in more than a decade! We can catch up later! We should enjoy the moment right now.”

She picked her up and spun her by her wrists. Marinette cried out in pain, and Adrien shot up. Gina let go of her, accidentally throwing her a little bit. Marinette stumbled as her feet hit the floor, but she didn’t fall. Adrien was immediately at her side. “Are you okay?” He asked, taking her hands. “You’re not bleeding, are you?”

Marinette smiled at him weakly. “I’m fine,” she said, although he didn’t seem convinced. She looked at Gina. “Nonna, please. I need to speak to you.”

Gina frowned. She dug around in her cabinets and grabbed a tin of candies. She put it on her table and sat down. “Open your birthday present first, and then we can speak.”

Marinette sat down, and Adrien pulled a chair over so he could sit to her left. Marinette unwrapped her present, and inside was a shirt folded tightly. It had a raven on it with lotus flowers surrounding it. Marinette smiled, but when she unfolded it, she realized that it was a baby shirt, and it wouldn’t have even fit over her head. “Um… this is very sweet, Nonna.” Marinette said with a smile.

“I guess it isn’t going to fit.” Gina said. “I keep forgetting how short lived humans are, and you are mostly human.”

Marinette shrugged. “It doesn’t matter! I’m sure I can do something with it.” She folded it up and put it in her lap. She was quiet. “Nonna, Uncle is dead. He unbound my magic, and he told me to go to Yinshui, but—”

“Wang is _dead?!_ ” Gina exclaimed. She seemed sad, but then spat. “Dammit! I told my son that it was a bad idea to keep you in one place, but did he listen? Bah!” She looked at the fire in the hearth, her eyes far away. “He… he died well?”

“He died trying to protect me from Nathalie.” Marinette said.

Gina spun around. “Nathalie?! That chess piece is still around?” She asked incredulously. She held her chin and thought. “I could have sworn that Anarka killed her when she cut out her heart…?”

Adrien’s eyes grew wide. “Nathalie… doesn’t _have_ a heart. She never has. There’s just a hole in her chest.”

“Never say never, young man.” She scolded with a smile. “I wasn’t there when Nathalie died, but my son told me about it…” Gina shook her head. “Anarka took her scissors and her heart as a trophy. But she’s still around?”

“How is that possible?” Adrien asked. “My… Gabriel doesn’t have Cheng’s dark magic, because if he did, he wouldn’t still be after Marinette.”

“That’s very true, and a better question for Cheng herself.”

“But my mother has been dead for years,” Marinette said.

“Truly?” Gina turned to look at her. “And why should that stop you, little necromancer?” She asked. She stood and looked out the window. “If you can raise the dead, then you don’t need your mother, you need a sacrifice.”

The room fell deathly quiet. Marinette looked at Adrien, and they both looked at Gina. “What do you mean, a sacrifice?”

“I mean, my baby Marinetta, that you can only resurrect the dead to full life without paying a price within twenty-four hours of their death.” She said. “Any longer, even a _second_ longer, and you’ll have to make a deal with the psychopomps, the beings who guide the souls of the dead.” She was quiet for a moment. “And the only way they will let a soul come back into this world, is if they receive a soul to stand in its place.”

Adrien shivered. “So you’re saying that… to bring Marinette’s mother back, someone else… has to die?”

“ **No!** I _won’t_ do that!” Marinette declared firmly. “I miss my parents terribly, but I’m not going to _kill_ someone else to bring them back!”

“This is your choice, and a difficult one.” Gina shrugged. “One day you’ll learn that the hardest choice is sometimes the only one.” She looked at the floor. “Your mother knows that better than anyone.”

Marinette pulled her hands in and shivered. Adrien put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

Gina smiled as she turned around. “Still! Look at how big you’ve grown, how kind. You’re everything my son wanted in his child.” Gina sat back down and took her hand. “I know that growing up without them was hard, but know this—they love you more than anything, and letting you go was the hardest thing they’ve ever done.”

Marinette didn’t react at first, but then she blinked. “Wait, love?” She said, and at first, neither Gina nor Adrien understood the question. “You said _love,_ Nonna—they _love_ me, present tense.” She shook her head. “No one… everyone refers to my parents in the _past tense!_ ”

Gina didn’t reply. She took a candy and started sucking on it.

And, to be honest, Marinette found that kind of annoying. “My father was your son. You must know how he died.” She said, to which she was given no response. “Are my parents alive?” She demanded. Nothing. Marinette stood and dug her nails into the table. “If they’re not dead, where are they?”

Gina stood and walked away. She grabbed something from the wall and held it close to her chest.

“Nonna,” Marinette said, her tone frustrated, “Where. Are. My. Parents?”

Gina looked back at her. “Go to Castle Inclementia, in Mouerrise. You’ll find answers there.” She looked back at her. “But please be careful. Gabriel watches the place like a hawk. His moths and his agents will follow you from the moment you cross the threshold.”

Marinette felt herself shaking. She looked at her hands as tears started rolling down her cheeks. “If my parents are alive, you _have_ to tell me!” She shouted. “They could help us! Please, Nonna, I need to know!”

She turned and hugged Marinette. She pushed hair out of her face, and then kissed her forehead. “You’ll understand one day.” She said, and then moved so they could see the door. “Go to the castle. Be ready to fight.”

She sighed and rubbed the tears from her face. Marinette grabbed the shirt and folded it into her suitcase. “Thank you for the present, Nonna.” She said. She looked at Adrien. “We should go. It’s a long way to Mouerrise.”

Adrien stood, smiling weakly at Gina. Marinette was already out the door, marching away from the cottage. Adrien shadow jumped to escape the trees. He had barely caught up to her when there was a loud sound behind them. Both turned to see the cottage walking away on the chicken legs. The earth shook as the trees uprooted themselves, revealing themselves to be ents. They followed the cottage on thick roots.

Marinette muttered something Adrien didn’t catch under her breath. For a moment, she was still, and then she felt the tears come again. “Dammit!” She cursed as they ran faster, covering her face. To be so close, only to have her grandmother freeze at a crucial moment? It was unbearable. She had been so, so close! She barely noticed as Adrien moved closer. “ _Dammit!_ ” Marinette sobbed as he pulled her into a tight hug. He held her for a long moment, looking up to the starry sky as she dug her nails into his shoulder. Marinette eventually pushed him away, albeit gently. Adrien gently wiped away her tears, keeping one hand on her face while holding both of hers in his other. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Adrien frowned. “That was… disappointing.”

“The whole night has been disappointing.” Marinette said. She started walking, and after Adrien corrected her direction, they started towards Mouerrise. “First, Alya calls us out for not having a chance in Hell, and now my grandmother is keeping secrets from me.”

“You never mentioned that your grandmother was a forest elf.” Adrien said.

She shrugged. “I’m human, so what does it matter?” She turned to face him. “But, yes, I am one-quarter elven.”

“What I mean is, _that’s_ why you’ve been having trouble conjuring. Forest elves can’t conjure.” He said. “They can manipulate nature’s forces, like the thorns your grandmother used to lure you closer.” He smiled. “And that gives me an idea.”

Adrien turned them around and brought them back to Marlena and Alya’s camp. It took a bit of convincing, but he was able to convince Marlena to let Marinette look at the wheel. Marinette sat down on her heels and touched the vine. She could feel it, like another heartbeat in her hand, and she took a deep breath. In her mind, she could see the twists the vines took, and she could pluck them, like bits of loose string. Marinette cut some in her mind, and pulled others, until eventually the vines had untangled themselves from the wheel. She was able to use some of them to twist once again and fix the broken wagon.

Marlena seemed very pleased, and she told Alya that she would start picking up camp. Alya moves closer to Marinette and Adrien when her mother moved. “Thank you.” Alya said. “For every vine she slashed, two more appeared. Maman can’t use magic, so there wasn’t much we could do.”

“Thank you for giving me the chance.” Marinette said.

Adrien looked at Alya. “I’m very sorry that we lied to you. You were completely justified turning us away.”

Alya looked at the repaired wagon. “A bit hasty, though.” She said with a shrug.

“I know that we’re asking you to take a lot on faith.” Marinette said, taking a step forward. “All I’m asking is you take us to Mouerrise with you, and while we’re traveling, to give us a chance to prove that we can protect ourselves.”

Alya considered this. She sighed, and she frowned. “I’m sorry I sent you away. I thought about what you said after you left, and I realized that you’re a couple of kids going up against a mage who has way too much power.” She leaned against the wagon. “Maybe I’m right, and you don’t have your act together…” she winked at them. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t help you out!”

Marinette and Adrien both smiled.

Alya held up a finger. “But, don’t lie to me again.” She said. “This only works with total honesty.” They agreed. Adrien and Marinette helped them pack up camp, and they started once again for Mouerrise.

As they travelled, Marinette found a map in the wagon. Marinette dug a crystal out of her suitcase and held it over the map. She scanned it diligently, looking for any sign of a glow. The whole wagon was illuminated in pink light, but nothing on the map specifically glowed. She sat here for hours, desperate. There had to be something, anything… just anything at all.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel stood in front of his map with a purple crystal in his hand. He scanned it ruthlessly, looking for any sign of a glow. The whole atelier was illuminated in violet light, but nothing on the map specifically glowed. He stood here for hours, furious. There had to be something, anything… just anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> traveling chapters are good for relationship building but they are such a fucking pain to write


	15. Many Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Investigators: First 48 Hours Most Critical In Locating Missing Children Who Enter Portal To Fantastical World

Caline had changed out of her dress and into clothes a bit better suited for traveling. She wore a simple black jacket, a teal mock turtleneck, a short skirt, and boots that just about reached her mid-calf. Her stockings were thick and patterned, and she had covered the binding with a piece of white cloth and a bracelet. Caline wrapped a white scarf around her neck.

In her youth, Caline had been an archer, something she continued to practice since she had never been able to use magic. She attached a quiver and a bow to her belt, and had armed herself with a photograph of Marinette from the previous year.

None of these things helped her when she came to a fork in the road. Caline stood and stared at the sign, sort of frustrated that she’d been stumped so soon.

 **Châtdurat**  
au nord, vingt kilomètres et demi  
**Veràsoie**  
à l'est, six kilomètres  
**Mouerrise**  
à l'ouest, soixante-quinze kilomètres

Caline tried to put herself in Marinette’s shoes. She had just learned that she was a necromancer, skilled in a school of magic that no one thought possible, that would make her a target of the Summerland blood hunters if anyone found out. On top of that, she’d learned that there was a personal threat, namely Colonel Agreste, who wanted to kill her for the power her blood carried. If Caline had been in Marinette’s shoes, she would have been very frightened. She would have wanted to get as far away from the threat as possible.

While it would have made sense to get to the Hidden Republic, going north would have been suicide. Châtdurat was farther from Nidesouris, and Marinette might have gone that way, since she had been absent from most of Caline’s history classes. But she hoped she hadn’t. Veràsoie was closer to Nidesouris but farther from the border, but the bog was dangerous.

Caline frowned. Checking both cities would be a waste of time, and even if she had gone to one of them, there was no guarantee that she was there now. It was likely that Marinette herself was lost; she had never been very good at geography. But, as she looked at the sign, she remembered a story she had told her students of her youth, where she had studied. She had told them of the beautiful ocean and ships that could take a person anywhere. Yes, if Marinette had tried to escape her pursuers, she would have gone towards Mouerrise.

Caline grabbed her bike, which she had leaned against the sign. She took a running start before jumping on her bike and pedaling down the road. She rode for a couple of hours before stopping to rest her legs.

She decided to eat as well, since she had left the town without doing so. Caline leaned against a dead tree and looked up at the starry sky, watching nebulas and auroras light up the endless darkness.

Caline jumped when she heard someone walking. She grabbed her bow and crawled towards the road, peeking around a bush. She saw a young man with a guitar on his back headed down the road. He held a jagged stone in his hand which played music quietly. She wiped her mouth off and stood. “Excuse me! Could I have a moment of your time?” She shouted. The boy slowed his stride and smiled at her. “Thank you. You wouldn’t have happened to have seen a young girl on your travels?”

“I have seen many girls in my life,” the boy quipped, his face breaking into a smirk.

Caline chuckled. “I’m looking for a half Winter, half Ecliptic girl. She’s just turned fourteen. She has blue-gray eyes and raven hair, and there are freckles on her nose.” She said. She turned away, so she couldn’t see the look of panic which spread across his face. He had hidden it by the time she looked back. “I believe that she may have gone towards Mouerrise.”

“I… no, I haven’t seen anyone like that.” He said. He grabbed his arm and looked away. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m already late to meet with my sister.”

“Oh, my apologies. Good journey to you.” She moved so the boy could pass. Caline grabbed her bike and started back on her own path.

After he was certain that she’d gone far enough away, Luka turned and watched her. He felt his breath grow haggard, and he watched her until she was fully out of sight. Luka picked up the pace afterwards, as he was too far away to run, but shaken by the encounter.

Luka could fight; Anarka had made sure both he and Juleka were prepared to defend themselves. But he didn’t enjoy it, and avoiding fights was better than engaging in them anyway. He had no proof that the woman he’d just encountered was Gabriel’s agent, but the thought frightened him.

It took about two hours to reach the manor. Luka ran towards the door, forcing the door open. He was rather out of breath by this point. He dropped his bags and kicked the door shut. He let his shoulders slump as he caught his breath. “Julie!” He shouted, his voice unaccustomed to the volume.

There were quick steps that disappeared after only a few. A raven swooped down from the staircase, and then Rose appeared in its place. She hugged him tightly, the force of impact causing them to twirl. “Oh, sweet Luke! I’ve missed you so!” She said, eventually planting her feet on the ground. She smiled at him with sisterly love in her glowing blue eyes.

“It has only been a few weeks, belle Rose.” Luka said. “I’ve missed you, too.” He hung his hat on the coat hanger and leaned his guitar against the wall. “I have to talk to Juleka. Where is she?”

“I’m the mirror room, upstairs.” Rose hiked up her skirt and led him up the staircase, pausing so Luka could grab his bags. “Poor thing. She’s been trying to contact her dear champion for nights on end, to no avail.”

Rose took his bags and opened the door to Luka’s bedroom. He thanked her and proceeded to the mirror room. Juleka was sitting before the mirror, holding up different crystals as she tried to get it to react to her. She glanced at him, did a full double take, and then put her things down. “Welcome back, Luka,” she said, her monotone voice betrayed by the hint of a smile on her face.

“Thanks, Jewel.” He embraced her, careful not to knock her hennin from her head.

“I was beginning to worry about you.” Juleka said. “Did you enjoy the music of Clara Nightingale?”

Luka laughed awkwardly. “I’ll tell you about that later,” he said. “Right now, I have something important to talk to you about.” He gently pushed Juleka so she was sitting on the bed. He closed the door, making brief eye contact with Rose as he did so.

“What is troubling you?” Juleka asked as he sat down.

“I met a woman on the road. I think she’s looking for Cheng’s daughter.” Luka said. “The description she gave… it sounds just like her.”

“Luka, you can’t speak of these things. You know that…” Juleka advised, looking at his arm briefly before looking up at his face.

“It hurts,” Luka said, rubbing the spot on his arm, “but so long as I don’t share any details, that’s all it will do.” He shook his head. “I spoke to Tom in Cercueil. The letter never arrived. I think that Cheng’s daughter might be in danger.”

“You say that you can’t speak in specifics, and yet you just drop names and events like they mean nothing?!” Juleka scolded. She struck the spot on Luka’s arm, and he yelped loudly before nursing it. She put her fists on her hips. “Luka Belial Couffaine, if you lose your arm and bleed all over my bed sheets, I’m going to _kill_ you!”

“Corpus Christi, Juleka! I’m more likely to lose my arm at your beatings than Cheng’s magic!” He cursed. Luka rubbed his arm and frowned. “Listen, I know where I last saw them, and where they told me they were going, but that was a while ago, and they left on broomstick. They aren’t there now.”

Juleka stood. “But, you saw them? Tom and Sabine—they’re alive?” She turned around. “Marinette said they were dead…”

Luka pushed off from the bed as he stood. “You spoke to Cheng’s daughter?” He asked.

“Marinette… is my champion.” She said. She frowned. “But she hasn’t answered any of my channels. I worry that she has fallen into a trap.”

“Why is she alone?” Luka asked. “You shouldn’t have let her go!”

“We tried to convince her to stay! But she was determined to find out what happened to her mother!” Juleka said. She threw her hands up in the air. “But of course, nothing did happen to her, and now she’s off Gods know where, and I have no idea if she’s even safe!” She covered her eyes with her hand.

Luka spun her around. “I’m sure that she’s fine.” He reassured her, and Juleka nodded. “But we have to convince her to come back.”

“But I don’t know where she is now. Last I spoke to her, she was outside Cercueil.” Juleka said.

Luka opened his mouth to speak. He blinked instead, taking a half step back as he thought. What he was thinking couldn’t be. There was no way that Félix and Marie had… he shook his head. No, they would have recognized her, wouldn’t they…?

“Luka? Luke, are you okay?” She asked. “What happened?”

“I… can’t tell you,” he confessed. He shook his head.

Juleka frowned, her eyes filled with concern. “There’s no way around it. If Marinette won’t answer my channels, we must go after her and bring her back.” She declared. “This is the only way to protect her.” She walked over to the door and pulled it open, jumping back when Rose fell into a heap at her feet. Juleka bent to help her up. “Rose! Whatever are you on the floor?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, if that’s what you’re insinuating!” Rose protested too much. Juleka smiled. “If we’re traveling soon, I should go to our armory to make sure that our gear is still in working order.” She volunteered. Rose put a hand on her cheek daintily. “Poor Luka, just got home and already headed for the road again.”

Luka only smiled. “That’s the way the song is played,” he said.

Juleka turned and smiled at her brother. “Tell me about Cercueil now,” she requested.

His smile vanished. “I… can’t tell you that either.” He pushed past her to get to his room. Rose and Juleka looked at the door before sharing a look.

 

* * *

 

Adrien woke slowly, stretching his back and rubbing his eye. He rubbed the rest of his face as he stood and left the wagon. He walked out to find Marinette reading diligently next to the campfire. He stretched his arms out. “Did you sleep at all?” He asked.

She glanced at him, and then startled. “Oh! You’re up!” She herded him toward the grassy knoll next to the campsite, positioned him facing her, and then scurried back about two meters. “I need you to walk towards me!” She directed.

Adrien blinked. He looked around. “Just… walk towards you?” He clarified. She nodded. “Okay. Walking towards you. Just over there.”

Marinette focused on him. She tried to manipulate the grass under his feet, but being such a beginner to magic, she couldn’t get it to grow when she needed it to. She noticed he was walking past wild vegetables, and she tried to use their roots to stop him. Instead, she just rooted the plant itself.

It was enough to get his attention. He smiled as he watched it. “Oh! You rooted the onion!” He said, bending at his knee to watch as the onion was consumed by roots and dragged beneath the soil. “That’s very impressive!”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I was _trying_ to root _you._ ” She explained. She shook her head. “I know that forest elves were famous for manipulating nature to build their nomadic cities, but so far, all I’ve managed is rooting vegetables.” She huffed. “They can do that themselves.”

“Still, this is more than you were able to do before.” He said cheerfully. “It bodes well. Your magic is getting stronger.”

“But it’s not _enough!_ ” She waved him off and turned around. “Don’t even start! I already know what you’re going to say.”

Adrien sighed. He moved towards the campfire and sat down. “I’m serious, though. Did you get any sleep?”

“I’m too amped up!” She said as she started pacing. She was holding her head in her hands. “Forget everything else that happened. My grandmother just basically confirmed that my parents are alive. How can I go to sleep?”

“You’d think it was a dream come true,” Adrien said.

“It is!” Marinette exclaimed, though it didn’t alleviate any of her anxiety. “Adrien, when I finally calmed down, I was so excited! My parents are out there! But…”

Adrien leaned forward. “But what?”

She froze. “But what if they don’t want to help us?” She panicked. Her arms were a flurry of motions that he could barely keep up with. “What if we never find them? Or, what if we do and my mother tells me that she left me there as bait?” She pulled her pigtails forward and yanked on them. “Or what if your father has spies following us because he knows that we know they’re not dead, and as soon as we find them, he’ll swoop down upon us and take her away?!”

“Yes, swooping is bad,” Adrien muttered as he rubbed his chin.

“Or!” She shouted, “What if the reason that my parents never came back for me is because they had a new child?! One that was stronger and better than me?!” Adrien closed his eyes, and he shook his head as he realized she was spiraling. He approached her without a word. Marinette met him halfway. “What if they’ve forgotten all about me? What if—”

“Hey, come here.” Adrien brought her to the fire. “You’re spiraling, ’Nette.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he placed his finger against her mouth. He looked at her left arm and sat her down in the grass. He glanced at her neck, noting the bandages wrapped around her neck. He ran his claws against them, making Marinette’s face heat up. “It’s been a while. How about we take the bandages off?”

Marinette nodded. She turned her back to him, removing her bodice, shirt, and corset. Adrien carefully unwrapped the bandages, doing his best not to aggravate the healing wounds. Marinette looked up, trying not to focus on his fingers when they touched her skin.

Adrien sighed when he could see her wounds. Most had healed over, but they were still raw. He ran his fingers over them, the skin still hot to the touch. “If you want my advice, Marinette… I think you should keep making your medicine.” He said, his voice implying that he was deep enough in thought that he hadn’t realized Marinette’s face had turned bright pink as he touched her skin. “Healers are in short supply and you have a gift for it.”

Marinette grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. She immediately flopped back, landing on Adrien’s chest and taking him by surprise. He put his hands on her shoulders, and then glanced around before relaxing. “Do you ever wonder what you’re parents are doing?” She asked. “I used to wonder all the time, but then I was told they’d died, so I stopped, but… now?”

Adrien frowned. He pulled her closer to keep her warm in the chilly air, and then nodded. “I do, sometimes…” He confessed. “Though I can’t imagine it’s anything interesting.”

 

* * *

 

Gabriel’s eyes were focused squarely on Nathalie’s jaw as she threw her head back and moaned. He was in her bed, the sheets wrinkled and unruly around him, and she was seated on his lap, twice as scandalous as it implied. His hands traveled from her hips to her waist, pulling her torso closer to his. When she was close enough to feel his hot breath against her neck, she opened her eyes. Theirs met for a moment before he averted them. Nathalie hesitated for a moment, knowing she wasn’t allowed to kiss him, and then she bit his neck. Gabriel reacted, but he didn’t stop her, so she kept doing it.

This wasn’t an exceedingly common occurrence. Common enough, Emilie noted as she walked away from the door to Nathalie’s room, that it had prompted her to leave and take Adrien with her, but rare enough that this was perhaps the second or third time she’d ‘caught’ them since Gabriel had dragged her back and ripped out her eyes. Emilie honestly regretted not leaving sooner, but when she first found out, she was heavily pregnant. She gave birth soon after, and she wasn’t strong enough to get far away. Still, there were times she regretted leaving, too. Especially, she thought as she reached the landing between the two sets of stairs, where the faded family portrait hung, when she could no longer be with her son.

Emilie entered Gabriel’s atelier and fumbled around for something to do. She found his stock of crystals, but without her eyes telling her the color, it was pointless trying to do anything with them. The map was flat, so anything she divined from it would be useless. She found a drawer and dug through it. Emilie’s hand touched a vial, and once she grabbed it, she could feel the cork. She opened it and held it to her nose. It smelled like nothing, so she tasted it. It was finely ground quartz. Common and, she thought as she lifted her skirt and tucked the vial into the garter holding up her stockings, easily replaced.

She kept looting, looking for anything she could use in her potion. She found a small supply of calea zachatechi, which enhanced dreams and might have been imported from the Summerlands, and stored it in her corset. She fumbled blindly in the corner until her hand touched hanging vines, and she started to rip them off the ceiling, ignoring the crumbling infrastructure of the mansion. She hid them by wrapping them around her leg.

Emilie heard footsteps get closer. She collected more vines until they were too close for her to do so subtly. She turned so she faced the direction of the door as it opened. “Nearly all of our trackers are focused on Sabine.” Nathalie reported. “If we had anyone more capable of hunting people down, they would already be assigned to her.”

Gabriel grumbled. “This is a priority now. We find Adrien, we find Cheng’s daughter.” He said firmly. “Who is the best tracker among the ones we have?”

Nathalie flipped through her papers, weighing track records and various opinions she’d formed over the years. “That would be—”

The agent’s name was drowned out as Emilie spoke up, catching Gabriel’s attention. He had seen her, but paid her no mind. “This isn’t the job for an agent! This is a job for a _mother._ ” Emilie protested. Gabriel and Nathalie stared at her, but she couldn’t perceive this. “Adrien is a good boy. If I ask him to come back with me, he’ll do it. I know it.”

“Do you think that I’d let you go anywhere, especially so far away, after everything you’ve done?!” Gabriel snapped.

He was referring to Châtdurat, of course, but she bitterly thought of how she’d done nothing he hadn’t already done, and at least she’d had the decency to cheat with someone her own age, and not someone who she’d met when they were a _child._ And they’d been separated for years, with no contact, so was that even _cheating?_ After enduring years of manipulation and affairs? She would have divorced him if she were legally capable of it—one advantage the Summerlands had over the Hinterlands was the access to divorce—but contacting him at all would have told him her location. “Please, Gabriel. Give me a chance!”

“Nathalie,” Gabriel snapped, startling her. Emilie could hear the beating of nervous wings in her chest. “Send your agent! You will go with him, but I want you to call someone back.” She could feel his eyes on her. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.” Referring again to her escape. She sighed and left the room. Part of her thought she should hate Nathalie, and there were definitely times that she did—this was only natural; it wasn’t like Nathalie could claim that she didn’t know Gabriel was married—but usually she just felt sorry for her. She was in an understandably frustrating position. She loved a man—an older man, which was probably the saddest part—who was using and manipulating her and likely had been since she was a child. Sabine had earned her military rank, but Gabriel’s rank was always in question.

She moved for the stairs. “Madame Agreste, my lord is doing what he feels is best.” Nathalie shouted as she reached the landing.

Emilie didn’t move her head. “If he would just give me a chance, I know that I could bring him back.” She lied through her teeth.

Nathalie climbed the stairs. Emilie could no longer remember who was taller, her or Nathalie, but she did know that Nathalie did _stand_ taller than her. Emilie often found herself hunched over, as if making herself small. “You know why he can never do that.”

“I wouldn’t even need to leave the mansion. I know a spell that allows campions to contact those in their bloodlines.” She shrugged. “Usually it’s to reach our demon parents, but I know that I could use it to ask Adrien to come home.” She placed a hand on the wall. “I have most everything for it. All I need is sea salt. Nathalie, can’t you get it for me?”

“Monsieur Agreste believes that you will warn Adrien of the hunters, and he will take to the wind.”

Emilie saw her chance. Some of her skills came from her campion heritage, others came from fighting to free Fémurre, and then there were others still that had come from being a mother. “I wish that he had more _faith_ in me,” she said forlornly. She fumbled, but found Nathalie’s hands. She held them dearly, like an old friend might. They were, she realized. Old friends. “Nathalie, I know that after everything I’ve done, this is hard to believe, but there is _nothing_ more important to me than my _family!_ ”

And there, right on cue, was the shift in Nathalie’s beating wings. If there was one thing that Emilie knew and could count on, it was that Nathalie felt awful that Gabriel was cheating on Emilie with her, even though having sex with the man she loved filled her with—well, passion or joy were perhaps not the only thing sex with Gabriel filled her with, the eternally adolescent mind of Emilie Agreste decided. But the way Emilie wielded guilt, she should’ve stuck with the army. “Yes, Madame Agreste. I will get sea salt for you and your spell. You can count on me.”

Emilie held her hands to her face. “Oh, Nathalie, you are a wonderful person. Whatever would I do without you?” Take it down a notch, she told herself.

“Please, I don’t deserve that.” Nathalie muttered. “You’re just tired. The journey downstairs is trying on your legs; they’re still healing.” She held her and led her up the stairs. “I will get the salt for you before I leave to help the search.”

“Thank you,” Emilie said. She averted her eyes so Nathalie couldn’t see her expression. Not that it was very telling; acting was her passion. She was determined behind her calm façade. If Adrien had allied himself with Cheng, then she would do the same. She knew the fate that awaited him if he was dragged back, and she could fight tooth and claw to keep it from happening to him.

 

* * *

 

The Gorilla could not speak. His tongue had been removed nearly a decade ago, and since then, his mouth had been sewn shut. He held Adrien’s bell collar in his hand as he inspected a burned farmhouse outside Cercueil. Adrien had last been seen there, and it was important to check all options. He had definitely been here, but the tracks were older than the ones in Cercueil, so he had likely come from this direction, not gone there.

He stood. He wore leather armor under a long, dark cloak. A quiver was strapped to his side, and while it wasn’t strung, he had a bow attached to his belt, too. The Gorilla stood and walked towards the road. Nathalie was to meet him in a hearse in the evening, and he couldn’t waste time here. As he walked, he grabbed a dagger made of bone and started whittling a piece of wood into a stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today (31/12) is my birthday


	16. the Dead Throne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head On Pike Really Pulling Together Castle’s Look

Adrien was dreaming. He knew that, and still he couldn’t force himself to wake up. He dreamed that he was falling, down, deeper into the depths, until suddenly he stopped, a hair’s breadth from the earth. He reached out and touched the soil, only to be grounded and topple over. Adrien pushed off and stood.

He was in a field of wildflowers. The moon, in its crescent phase, looked so close that he could reach out and touch it. He walked forwards, towards the moon, aimlessly, until he heard a voice. “Whatever you do, don’t turn around.”

He froze. Adrien felt his heart skip in his chest. “Mother?” He whispered, and he moved to turn. He felt her hands on his face, whipping his head around to face the moon. “Mother, I don’t understand.”

“There are many eyes on the road, and the many eyes are looking at you,” she whispered, harsh and quiet, like she was being listened to. “Blood will always seek its kin, but it does not always seek it in kinship.” She wrapped her arms around him. “We owe her too much.”

Adrien tried to look at her, but she kept him steady. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Go to Castle Inclementia. Find the portrait of the Suicide King.” Emilie’s voice stopped short, and her hands came to his shoulders, like she was startled by something. “But he knows you’re coming.”

“Mother, please. Tell me where you are.” He begged. “I want to help you, but I have to know where you are!” Emilie gently started pushing him away. “Maman, please, I want to see you.” Adrien fought against her to turn.

“My brave boy. What I wouldn’t give…” Emilie put her hands on his face, and as he looked at her, the world went dark. “…to see you again.”

Adrien shot up, his blankets flying off and hitting the floor. He could see a ghostly figure next to the door of the wagon, and he knew that this was the lingering spell his mother had used. She vanished as soon as he reached out for her. Adrien held his hand out for a moment, his fingers and strength faltering, but then he let it fall.

When he saw that he was the only one awake, but Marinette was missing, he redressed and climbed out of the wagon. It was the last stop before Mouerrise, which they would reach before moonrise if they left soon. Marinette was sitting next to the campfire, dancing Atropos on her fingers.

“Have you slept at all?” He asked, annoyed.

She glanced at him before returning her focus to the scissors. “No,” she confessed.

“If you don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to knock you out with a hammer.” He threatened before sitting next to the fire.

“I don’t think being knocked out cold is the same thing as sleeping.” Marinette said. She stopped dancing her scissors to look at him. “Is something bothering you? You’re not usually so short with me,”

Adrien sighed. “My mother gave me a message in my dream. The problem is, I’m still half human, so I don’t have a good idea what she was trying to tell me.” He sort of rolled his hands. “Human dreams are annoyingly nonlinear.”

“Was it really your mother?” She asked. He nodded. “What did she say?”

“Gods, I don’t know. It’s like a memory that isn’t my own.” He said. “She said something about eyes and blood. Blood seeking its kin.” He sighed. “She probably knows you’re looking for your mother.”

“Or, Nathalie finally told your father that you’re helping me, and he’s looking for you.” Marinette said. “You’re his kin, after all.”

“Don’t remind me.” He said. “She also mentioned the Suicide King, but I don’t know who that is. No kings in Fémurre’s history have committed suicide.”

Marinette frowned, but she raised one eyebrow. “Well, the Suicide King isn’t a person. It’s a playing card. The King of Hearts.” She said. “Was King Aldéric known as the King of Hearts?”

“If he was, it was ironic. Aldéric was an awful king,” Adrien said. “Most of the last generation monarchs were awful and selfish. There’s a reason why we invented the guillotine.”

“Well, still, it has to be him. If we needed to leave the country, she would have said that.” She said. She was quiet as Adrien looked away. “Is this the first time your mother has contacted you in a long time?”

“My father found us a little under a year before you and I met.” Adrien said. He leaned back and looked at the stars. “My mother bargained with Nathalie, so in exchange for me staying in Châtdurat, she would go back to the mansion.” He sighed. “I was bound, and I never heard from her after that. Now, she won’t even let me look at her.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Marinette said. He shrugged. “Do you think that maybe… your father did something to her?”

He sat up straight. “If he _did,_ ” he said, “it didn’t break her spirit. She definitely disobeyed him to send me that message.” He frowned. “I miss her.”

Marinette looked at the flames. “I could say, at least you know yours, but that seems more about me than you.” She muttered. She shook her head and smiled at him. “She’s just trying to look out for you.”

“I would rather have her here, so I can look after us both.”

Marinette giggled. “I think you have your hands full just trying to keep me out of trouble!” She said. He chuckled in spite of himself.

 

* * *

 

The Gorilla examined the sharp stones left behind in a torn up clearing. He used one to dig around in it, finding a small clump of blood soaked earth. He collected it, holding it up to his nose, and then stood. He turned around, smelling the air. When he had the scent, he looked at Nathalie. She was standing behind him, her arms folded. The Gorilla pointed west.

“They went that way?” She clarified. He nodded with a short grunt. Nathalie was quiet as she considered what they might have been up to. Her eyes grew wide, and she spun around. “I know where they’re going.”

 

* * *

 

Mouerrise has once been the seat of Fémurre. However, at some point, an earthquake decimated it, and it just never recovered. The Hinterlands were largely flat, but once one reached the western coast, it became craggy and almost mountainous. Mouerrise was surrounded by tall iron gates that had bent and were half destroyed. Then there was acres of destroyed city, with only about a dozen skeletal remains of buildings even left standing. The rest was just rocky debris. After navigating the narrow road, there was a sudden drop, a steep road that was borderline dangerous for wagons.

But then, they were there. Mouerrise, the City on Gray Water. The main city was built on the grassy knoll next to the beach, with some lower-income apartments built into the cliff on the south side. Further west there were more than a dozen boats, tied to moors and acting as an extension of the city. To the north, towering over the city, was the only thing left untouched in the earthquake: Castle Inclementia, once the seat of the monarchy. It stood proud and untouched above the city, like a haunted memory. Something that no one liked, but could not bring themselves to get rid of.

Marinette and Adrien thanked Alya and Marlena profusely for the ride. Adrien tried to give Marlena some of the teeth that he’d saved up, but she refused. Marinette took Alya to the beach, and with Adrien’s help, she crafted an enchanted mirror similar to the one Juleka had given her.

“I owe you so much,” Marinette said. “Take this, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to channel me.” Alya hugged her before heading back to her mother.

Adrien and Marinette walked along the beach for a while, with Marinette collecting shells and tucking them into her bag. Then they went into the city, and settled down at a restaurant to discuss their plans.

Marinette picked at her food as Adrien started to dig in. “You had Alya help you get into Fort Gossamer, but we’re on our own this time.” She said, lifting up her spoon to examine the apple green slime in the wooden bowl before her. She glanced at Adrien, who looked up at her. He seemed unperturbed by the texture of the food. She sighed. “With luck, we’re ahead of the agents. We might be able to get in and out without getting caught.”

Adrien nodded. “Getting in will be fairly simple, though. I can bring you into the Shadow Realm, and it’ll be easy to sneak past the guards.” He said. “Once we’re inside, we shouldn’t run into any opposition.”

Marinette tilted her head and leaned forward. “But what if we do? We have to be prepared.” She looked to the side. “Thinking that we’re ahead of the game has nearly gotten us captured.”

He conceded the point. “What are you going to do once we’re there? Do you know where you need to fall asleep?”

“Hopefully just being in the castle is enough.” She said. Her suitcase started to vibrate, and annoyed, she kicked it. It kept buzzing, but she ignored it.

Adrien frowned. “Your friends are probably worried sick about you,” he said.

“I know, but I’m not ready to talk to them yet.” She said. She looked up at the hills. A hearse came over the hill, and slowly started to descend. “We should go.”

Marinette and Adrien left Mouerrise. Adrien had a miserable time of it, as the gulls had taken to building their nests on the cliffs. Their feathers sent him into a sneezing fit. Lining the broken paved road to the castle were red rose bushes, though they didn’t look like real red roses. They looked like they’d been painted by something darker than red pigment. Closer to the top of the cliff, signs had been put up, warning people of the legal consequences of entering the castle.

“Why aren’t people allowed in, anyway?” Marinette asked as she looked over the signs. Earlier ones had been vandalized, but the closer they got to the castle, the less vandalized they were.

Adrien shrugged. “If I had to guess? The castle is built onto a cliff that only exists because the rest of the town was destroyed by an earthquake. They probably don’t want people inside in case there’s another one.”

“I guess that makes sense, but why not destroy the castle then?” She asked. He admitted he did not know.

They reached the final stretch. There were two guard towers posted at the end of the road. Marinette took a half step closer to Adrien, who wrapped his arms around her. After taking a running start, he pulled them both into the Shadow Realm.

Adrien didn’t want to confess this to Marinette, but they had to stay close. Even if they were touching, if she wandered too far away from him, she could fall into the spiritual plane, and it was possible that he’d never find her there. It was easier to just pull her close, and walk past the guards, and not tell her why he had her pressed to his torso tighter than anything.

They encountered their first real obstacle when they realized that the gates had been chained shut. On his own, Adrien could have shadow jumped to the other side, but Marinette would have been stuck. Instead, he had to pull them back into the mortal realm so Marinette could pick the lock. Adrien was looking over his shoulder, and when one of the guards got close, he pressed his body closer to Marinette. His hips were certainly touching hers, and he didn’t even seem to notice. Her face turned hot, and she almost dropped the deadbolt.

They ducked inside, and Marinette reached through the bars to put the bolt back. After sprinting across the courtyard, Adrien used the pointed end of his staff to force the great doors open, and they ducked inside.

The inside of the castle grand foyer was dark. But moonlight came in from the portcullis, illuminating the room in silver blue light. The carpet was in tatters. Whatever hadn’t been eaten by mice and moths had been burned when a candelabra had been tipped over. Wax and ash were spread the stone floor.

Marinette and Adrien, anticipating them being the only people to come here, abandoned their things by the door. Marinette grabbed her palace lantern, and Adrien lit it. She carried it as they moved from the grand foyer into the great hall.

The door stuck fast, but Adrien was able to push it open. The great hall served as a throne room. Three thrones were positioned at the top of a short set of stairs, separating them from the common rabble. The rug had been pushed aside, like it had been moved during a vicious battle. The stairs were stained, forever marked by blood of a monarch long since dead.

Marinette approached the stain. The blood was gone, long since evaporated and decomposed. But it’s mark remained. “This is from the blood of the king, isn’t it?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at Adrien. “Did your mother menti—”

He held up his hands. “Let me stop you right there.” He said. “No, she didn’t tell me anything about the castle. Yes, that does mean that we’re going to have to search for the portrait.”

Marinette held up her lantern without responding. There was a set of wooden stairs leading to the upper level on the left side of the room. She climbed up them, each step screeching under her weight. Adrien was close behind, his tail flicking and making the shadows on the wall dance around.

The upper level housed the bedrooms. They decided on the king’s bedroom for Marinette to attempt to call forth her mother’s memories—after all, they were in the castle, so they might as well live like royals. The room was smaller than they thought it would be, though it was still very large. There were paintings nailed to the wall, though some of the frames were broken as people had tried to pry them off while looting. The bed had been stripped of most of the heavy fabric, and what little remained was threadbare and motheaten.

Adrien took the lantern as Marinette kicked off her boots and climbed into the bed. She hadn’t slept in several days, so after struggling to get comfortable, she fell asleep easily.

 

* * *

 

The soldiers were in the courtyard. Veterans fighting with rebellious citizens on both sides, those who were loyal, and those who dreamed of better things. The thief had broken through the gate, and he ushered the raiding party in. She clobbered the soldiers who got too close, and she hexed the ones that were farther away. She looked to her side, where a cambion in half-leather armor stood. On her other side was an aging pirate, though her long hair was still fiery. After a few glances, she figured her husband was… somewhere, probably hung up outside trying to heal soldiers as quick as he could. She turned to watch Gabriel strike down the last soldier in their way.

_Quickly, now._ **I’m sorry that I’m not killing fast enough for you, general.** _Aldéric has to surrender quickly, or we’re going to lose._ _The element of surprise is the only thing that we have in our favor._ Aye, no pressure or nothin’. **We don’t have enough space to train soldiers.** _We’re only effective in blitz attacks._ **We could just kill him.** Gabriel! **I’m just saying; a surrender will cripple the loyalists. The death of the king will scatter them.** _We are wishing no more death than necessary._

Her husband returned, and they stormed the hall. The guards within charged them, but were dispatched quickly. The raiding party drew closer, and she made eye contact with King Aldéric. Her memory of him was sort of fuzzy. She remembered that his eyes were blue, but their shape was forgotten. His hair was long and dyed black at the tips, like an ombré, and she was pretty sure it was naturally brown, but the color seemed… uncertain. He was wearing dark robes and furs, but there were no specifics. Nevertheless, she held up her staff and pointed it at him.

_Surrender, Aldéric! Your reign of tyranny is—_

He interrupted her by standing.

Oh, very intimidating, soldier. Did you practice that in the mirror this morning?

_Enough!_

I agree! This has been an interesting diversion, but enough is enough. You must think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think you’re heroes as the very people you’re fighting for suffer through this revolution?

They suffer at your hands! You burned their crops and sent their children to their deaths in the name of your own ambition!

**Father, just surrender…**

No! These people are traitors and terrorists, and we don’t give in to revolutionaries! The soldiers of Fémurre are my people! The citizens of Fémurre belong to me! They live to serve me, and they’ll die if I see fit!

You villain!

They are mine, and no Ecliptic bitch and her drones are going to change that! You’ll die here, Cheng! But not before I drag each and every one of your followers across the coals! Who should I start with? The knife-eared dog? The pretty little demon? Or maybe I’ll start with your fellow revolutionary, Agreste? The fae in human skin?

She did not remember what Aldéric looked like. But she did remember what his face looked like less than a breath later. The blade was brought against his throat, deep and sudden. His eyes bulged out as the blood started pouring out of his neck. Her husband gasped, and Gabriel put out his hand to keep him from running forward. Aldéric gasped for breath, bringing his hands up in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, before he fell, his corpse hitting the steps and his blood running until it touched the very tips of her shoes. The king was dead.

**Good night.**

 

* * *

 

Marinette was shaken awake. She felt her eyes roll about as she sat up. “Adrien? What’s going on?” She asked, but he held a finger to her lips.

He climbed onto the bed so he could whisper into her ear. “I hear footsteps in the foyer. We aren’t alone.” He said. Her face flushed, and she covered her mouth. “We have to get out of here, now.” He pulled her out of bed. When she reached for her boots, he shook his head. He tied them to his staff. “We’ll make too much noise with our boots. We’ll have to tiptoe in our stockings.”

Adrien took her hand and pulled her into the Shadow Realm. They walked slowly, using their higher ground to look for the source of th footsteps. Marinette could hear it now, though. Clicking heels and heavy stomps. When they reached the stairs, they could see one of them.

He was tall and wide. With his black and silver hair, wide forehead and deep set eyes, he looked almost like a gorilla. His mouth was sewn shut, so his skin around his lips was red and irritated. He wore a leather cuirass, thick green clothes underneath, and a heavy cloak.

Adrien yanked them back and into a corner. “What’s the matter?” Marinette whispered, looking at him.

He looked different, like his skin was made of ash. He looked down at her. “That’s the Gorilla,” he said. “He’s my father’s number one tracker. There’s no way we can go out the way we came in; he’ll spot us and capture us in no time.”

“How can he when we’re in the Shadow Realm?” She asked.

“Because if he can find us, he’ll do anything he can to break my concentration, and if I falter during this, we’ll be pulled right back out.” He shuddered. He looked down at her. “Any ideas?” She shook her head. “Gods, I really wish you hadn’t given your broom to Tom…!”

Marinette grimaced and looked around. She had no idea how long Adrien could keep up this spell, and it didn’t seem fair to him to drag him across the castle. She started looking for anything that could be used as a distraction. Marinette saw a portrait on the far end of the hall.

She pointed Adrien to it. They walked closer as the Gorilla walked upstairs. He had Adrien’s backpack in tow, and he looked suspicious, but he went down the hall to the King’s bedroom rather than towards them. Marinette looked at the portrait when they reached it. It was of Aldéric, with an axe held behind his head. His brown hair was dyed in a red and black ombré, so it almost looked like his head was bleeding.

“This is it. The painting your mother told you about!” Marinette said. Adrien dropped the spell so they could investigate. The portrait concealed a hidden door, and they ducked inside a moment before the Gorilla left the bedroom carrying the palace lantern. He smashed it on the ground, and the fire caught on the wood.

Behind the painting was a set of stairs leading down into the shadow. “Must lead to the cellar,” Adrien said. Marinette led the way, and he was a few paces behind. “What did you see in your dream?”

“The raid on the castle during the Rebellion.” She said. “More specifically, the night the king was assassinated. My mother… she remembers his death in vivid detail.”

“Did you see who in the raiding party killed him?”

“No one in the raiding party was close enough to slash open his throat.” Marinette said. “But they weren’t the only people there.” She stopped to look at him. “Aldéric’s daughter was in the hall when he died.”

“I’ve never heard of him having a daughter.” He said. “There are still loyalists. If there was an heir to the throne…?”

She shrugged. “My mother was genuinely surprised when he died; maybe the assassin killed her too?” They walked up the stairs, Adrien looking over his shoulder every so often. “I hope we find something useful. Or better yet, hope that bounty hunter doesn’t find us down here…”

Marinette picked the lock at the bottom of the stairs. It was black as moonless night on the other side. Adrien had little trouble seeing inside, but he knew Marinette would have, so he waved his hand to light the sconces.

Her jaw dropped. This was not the cellar. It wasn’t even just an armory—it was a complete torture room. There were large cages in two of the corners, and inside them were skeletons. A skeleton also hung from the wall, its toes just barely touching the floor. There were bloody tables and torture tools lying out, pits for fire, and displays of weapons. It reeked of death, and she felt her knees buckle.

“Do you suppose those people died before or after the raid?” Adrien asked.

“I only hope that it was painless,” she whispered, “but I know that it wasn’t.”

Marinette was frozen for a moment. Adrien moved to investigate the weapons. He grabbed a sword and held it up. It was made of bone, sharpened and honed over the years. It was an ancient and almost forgotten practice now, but many early humans used bone in weapons. Figuring that no one would miss it, Adrien started searching for a sheath for it. He found a sheath for a morning star also, and decided to take it, too.

Marinette was looking for clues, but found herself distracted by the skeletons. She looked at the bones. They showed clear signs of distress, many having been broken and healed either improperly or not at all. Some were clustered bear the door, like they had died trying to claw their way out. Others were weighed down with iron, their body language suggesting they’d given into despair. These people had died ages ago, but Marinette wept for them—they had not deserved this fate.

Adrien heard her crying and moved to comfort her. He put his hands on her shoulders, prompting her to stand and cry into his shoulder. He couldn’t look at the skeletons, so he averted his eyes to anywhere else. It was then that he saw the large painting between the two cages, surrounded by candles that never went out. It depicted two people, one who he recognized as Aldéric from the portrait upstairs, and the other was a young woman.

Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and her bangs were pushed to one side. She had round blue eyes and a stern expression. Adrien had never seen her before, yet she looked oddly familiar. He kept looking, his eyes narrowing as he tried to identify her. Then, he realized it. “Marinette, look at that painting.” He said.

She wiped her eyes and turned. She recognized the girl immediately. “Hold on! Is that… a portrait of **Nathalie?!** ” She asked incredulously.

Adrien couldn’t believe it either. “Nathalie is the daughter of Dead King Aldéric?!”

Marinette’s hands flew to her head. “Oh gods! Adrien, I think—” Marinette wasn’t asleep, but she could see her mother’s memories clear as the full moon. Aldéric fell when his throat was slit, and standing behind him was Nathalie, holding Atropos and her arm drenched in blood. “I think Nathalie is the one who assassinated the king!”

Adrien didn’t reply. He shoved Marinette behind him and drew his sword. She could hear high heeled boots walking slowly down the stairs. Tall leather boots with black pants were the first thing that came into view, then a bodice made of bone. She wore white shirt that exposed fully her missing heart, and a collar with matching train made of peacock feathers. Nathalie narrowed her eyes furiously. “I should have known that I would find you here.” She hissed. “I might have saved myself the trouble of looking for you, had I just come here from the start.”

“Let us pass, Nathalie.” Adrien ordered.

She laughed loudly. “And how could I disobey, when you say that in such a commanding voice?” Nathalie drew her wand and pointed it at them as the Gorilla joined her, holding a bone dagger and a length of rope. Adrien tightened his grip on the sword. They were going to have to fight their way out.


	17. Rain and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks Like The Aristocracy Is At It Again

Adrien pushed Marinette behind him, and she clung desperately to his arm. Nathalie pointed her wand at Marinette’s head as the Gorilla pulled back his bowstring. He pointed his arrow directly at Adrien’s heart. Marinette could feel Adrien grow tense as he tried to determine how to proceed. At this point, she figured, it wasn’t even about winning, or even escaping unharmed, but just getting out alive. But then, why weren’t Nathalie and the Gorilla attacking?

“Adrien…?” Marinette asked, clawing at Adrien’s shirt.

“Second move advantage,” he muttered. He adjusted his grip on the sword. “They’re waiting for me to make a hasty choice.”

But someone had to go first. Marinette had never been in a fight, excluding the one she’d gotten in with Adrien where she’d killed him, so she wasn’t sure how she could help. She was confident that they’d fare better if they could surprise their opponents, but the longer the stalemate went on, the less likely any course of action would surprise them. Marinette knew she could knock Nathalie off balance, but she knew that as soon as she tried, the Gorilla would kill Adrien. She could try to knock the bow out of his hands, but that still left Nathalie right in front of them.

She felt Adrien start to sweat, his eyes glowing brighter and a low growl escaping his lips. In response, Nathalie lowered her wand to his face. She definitely considered him the more immediate threat. Marinette desperately searched for a way to turn that to her advantage. Think, she ordered herself! How do you turn impossible odds in your favor? She ignored everything behind her and in the far distance—it had to be close, because they were in close quarters. But the only thing in near her were the cages—her face lit up, but she cowered behind Adrien so Nathalie didn’t see. Inside the cages were skeletons, and skeletons were the bones of dead people.

Marinette removed her leather glove and looked at the markings on her hand. Holding tight to Atropos, she undid her corset and stuck her hand into her shirt to hide the glow as she focused first on the pile of bones and then on the skeleton hanging from the wall. Stay still, she ordered them, and while a red glow appeared in one eye socket of each corpse, they remained deathly still.

“Get ready,” she muttered, pulling her hand out and taking a deep breath. “Here goes everything!” Marinette stood up straight, her corset falling to the ground. She sent out a focused blast of pure force to the cage door to her right, breaking it open and slamming it into the hanging skeleton. The pile of bones all stood, hissing and moaning and sprinting at full speed for the Gorilla. The cage door broke the shackles, freeing the last skeleton. It clamored to unlife, charging.

The skeletons tackled the Gorilla. Nathalie spun around, surprised that Marinette could have done something like this without her noticing. Adrien slashed her leg with his sword. She screamed, and Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand. “ _Run!_ ” He shouted, pulling her with him as he evaded their enemies.

They only got to the stairs before the Gorilla escaped the skeletons. He didn’t go after them right away, though—he paused to destroy the skull of one of the skeletons. Nathalie was the first to chase them, having used blood magic to heal her wounds. Still, she was slower in her heels than two teenagers.

“That was clever!” Adrien said as the reached the top of the stairs. He slammed the portrait against the wall as Nathalie reached the halfway point. He pushed Marinette to get her running. “That’ll teach Nathalie to underestimate you again!”

“I feel bad that I used them like that…” Marinette said as they raced down to the great hall.

“Those people died because of Nathalie’s father! I’m sure they would have jumped at the chance for a little revenge on his kin,” Adrien reassured her. The reassurance was short lived, as they arrived in the great hall to find their belongings scattered about, likely an attempt to stall them. “Listen,” Adrien started as a deafening crack came from the torture chamber, “there’s no time to get our stuff. We have to go now!”

They ran into the grand foyer, but discovered another obstacle. There was hot red energy pulsating in front of the door like electricity. Just getting close to it made Marinette feel like she was burning. She couldn’t dispel the energy, nor could Adrien shadow jump through it..

Adrien cussed under his breath. “This is the only way out of the castle!” He said.

“That can’t be true! The royal family would have had escape routes set up!” Marinette reasoned as he paced. “We just have to find one!”

“The only person who would know where those passages are is trying to kill us!”

Marinette tried to think. She’d gotten them out of the torture chamber; maybe she could get them out of this. “If we can’t go _through_ the gates,” she suggested, “maybe we can go _over_ them.” She shrugged. “I’m sure we can get to the ramparts.”

“Maybe, but there is a no-fly enchantment set up around the castle, and even if there wasn’t, you gave your broom to Tom.” Adrien said.

“It won’t ground us right away,” Marinette argued, “and if we find a broom, or even a mop since we’re desperate, I can enchant it!” They turned around and reentered the great hall.

They had just barely entered when there was a loud crash from upstairs. They both flinched as electricity crackled and shot down the hallway. Adrien pushed Marinette, trying to get her to run, but then they heard vibrations. “Marinette! It’s Rose and Juleka! Quick, answer it!”

She followed the sound and slid on her knees to where it was coming from. She searched for it frantically as Adrien stood guard near her, channeling magic into his staff. Marinette clutched the mirror close to her. “Rose? Juleka?!” She said.

“Marinette!” Rose’s voice came through, clear as a bell. “Oh, Maker’s mercy! I was so worried!”

“Rose, there’s no time! Nathalie is here, she found me at Castle Inclementia!” Marinette said. “We’re under attack! We need help!”

“Oh, gods! You’re in Mouerrise? We’re almost there, please don’t leave!” Rose said.

“Wait, _we?_ ” Juleka asked. “Marinette, you said ‘we?’”

“Please, you have to hurry! I don’t know how long I can evade her! I’m trapped!” Marinette begged.

“Who is ‘we?’” Juleka asked, but if Marinette had wanted to answer, she couldn’t. An arrow knocked the mirror from her hand, cutting her flesh slightly and shattering the mirror when it hit the wall.

Marinette yelped as she shot up. Adrien moved to cover her, spreading his stance out to act as a shield. He took a step forward, flames spinning around him as he launched them into the shadow. The wooden steps and hand railing caught fire, but it flushed Nathalie and the Gorilla out of hiding. The Gorilla jumped over the railing, landing with a grunt. Nathalie sent a blast of magic to clear the stairs before walking down the steps, surrounded by flame.

Marinette summoned her own magic and used it to break the stairs. Nathalie was trapped as they crumbled under her. Adrien dragged her through a doorway, and they raced down a hallway as his claws dug into her skin. He veered left, and Marinette slammed into the threshold. He heard her gasp on impact, and he pulled her closer, concern on his face. “Are you okay? I’m sorry!”

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, rubbing her side. She wasn’t actually fine, her body hurt quite a bit, but she’d live. She gently tore her wrist from him, examining the claw marks among her self harm scars.

Adrien ran his fingers over the marks. His hands were warm, but shaking. “I’m so sorry!” He said, wrapping his hands around her wrist and pulling her hand up to his face. Marinette wove her fingers into his hair.

“Oh, isn’t this cute!” Nathalie cooed, startling both of them. When Marinette spun around, Adrien instinctively pulled her into him. Nathalie’s nearly sarcastic smile dropped immediately, and she glared at Adrien. “Won’t your father be pleased to know you’re sleeping with the enemy.”

Adrien hissed. “She’s a fourteen year old girl, Nathalie! She shouldn’t be anyone’s enemy!” He shouted.

Nathalie pointed her wand at him. Adrien pushed Marinette behind him. Marinette sent a blast of force straight down under Nathalie’s feet, causing the floor to crumble, and Adrien used his staff to know her wand from her hand. Marinette pulled it closer to her, and she snapped it over her knee. She pointed down a hallway leading to a set of stairs. “That way!” She ordered.

They sprinted up the stairs. This led to the balcony on the other side of the great hall, giving them a front row seat to the fire Adrien had started. It was spreading, having now engulfed nearly the entire bannister. Adrien set another fire behind them, which caught the rug. They found another set of stairs and went up those as the Gorilla finished climbing up the wall and began to chase them.

“You seem to know him!” Marinette said. “What are his weaknesses?”

Adrien considered this. He pulled down a tapestry and threw it so it tangled around the Gorilla. “I think he’s some kind of werecreature,” he said.

“Great!” Marinette said sarcastically. “Have you got a silver bullet?”

“I don’t think any kind of bullet will stop _that_ guy,”

They had reached the third floor. This part of the castle was square, with many rooms with broken doors. Rats and spiders were the only living creatures, and Marinette bit her thumb as they ran. They turned a corner and ducked into a room. Adrien barricaded the door as Marinette started searching for anything they could use. This room might have been the servants’ quarters; the room was small and cramped because of the beds, only a small side table between each that kept them from touching. Marinette got on her knees and looked under the beds. The floor was covered in mouse traps, so mouse skeletons and dead insects were in abundance.

Marinette sat up and focused. She raised her hand up, feeling the dark energy flow through her. Adrien turned to watch as Marinette imbued the skeletons and exoskeletons with unlife, as they crawled out of hiding and surrounded. They waited for her order, like believers in mass, and when Marinette stood, they scattered through holes.

“You should be careful raising the dead, Marinette. You’re meddling in something you don’t understand.” Adrien warned.

She shook her head. “I’m not going to lay down and die passively! If Gabriel want this magic,” Marinette hissed, “I want to know _exactly_ what he’d use it for.”

Adrien felt a shiver go up his spine. The intensity obvious in Marinette’s eyes wasn’t something he’d associated with her… but he definitely liked what he saw. “Yes ma’am,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the door. He could hear the mice skeletons scurrying around, and the Gorilla was following them. They were trying to lead him astray. What were the insects doing?

Marinette searched the closet. Thankfully, the cleaning supplies were stored close to the servants, so she found a broom easily. She sat down and started whittling away at the handle with Atropos.

When an insect crawled into the room, Marinette stood suddenly. She pulled Adrien away from the door quietly and hid behind a bed. Marinette forced a window open, filling the room with the sound of panicked shouting, as well as the smell of cold air, rain, and ozone. She pulled him down onto the floor with her, and he sort of grunted when they hit it. Adrien pushed himself up, but Marinette pulled him down again.

“Pull your tail in,” she said as she reached around and pulled it. “He’s going to check this room soon.”

“How can you be so sure?” Adrien asked, though he lowered himself. He was about a hair’s breadth from her face now.

She smirked and tapped the skin next to her eye. “Compound eyes,” she said as it glimmered. Oh! Marinette was using the insects to spy; they were acting as an extension on her own vision.

There was pounding on the door. Marinette jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck. Adrien shimmied then under the bed, then turned his face so he could look under the bed, just in time to watch his barricade crumble. He covered Marinette’s body with his own, desperate to protect her. The Gorilla walked closer, inspecting the room. Adrien was certain that he could smell him, but the stench of ozone was overpowering. He hoped this was enough to confuse him.

The Gorilla stomped through the room. Adrien watched a mouse skeleton scamper around his feet, trying to lead him away, but he crushed it, the brittle bones snapping like twigs under his weight. He flipped over one of the beds before leaning out the window. Adrien pulled Marinette close to shield her from their stalker should he chose to flip over the one they hid under.

But he didn’t. He stormed out of the room with nothing more than a grunt. Marinette let out a breath, and Adrien watched the door to make sure he didn’t come back. “You did it,” he said, looking down at her. “You fooled him!”

There was a long moment where neither moved. Adrien was still sort of sitting on her, so Marinette couldn’t move. She just laid there, focused on his face, and subconsciously, she ran her fingers through his hair. He laughed, leaning forward and hugging her. It was awkward—they were still hiding under the bed—but she hugged him back.

“We aren’t out of the woods. We still have to get out of here.” Adrien crawled out from under the bed, offering his hand to Marinette. She carved a few more glyphs into the broom, and they took off running.

They didn’t get far, as they spotted Nathalie just as they rounded a corner. She stood at the end of the hall, almost hidden in the rising smoke. Marinette pushed Adrien into a room that housed yet another set of stairs, which they climbed.

“How many stories does this castle have?!” Adrien complained.

“Enough to tire out invaders,” Marinette said, “not that it did any good!”

Adrien moved out of the way when he reached the top. He pulled Marinette out of the staircase before sending fire down, catching the cobwebs and carpets on fire. “Quick!”

Marinette raced ahead of him, rushing into the closet room and to its door. She used all of her strength to force open a window, and then climbed out. She cautiously climbed through it, ushering for Adrien to follow suit, tightly gripping the broom and Atropos in one hand. She grabbed his hand. “Quick, create a link with me like you did with Alya!” He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Marinette took advantage of the magic boost to throw them up onto the roof.

It was a struggle to claim footing once they touched the roof. Adrien would have slid off if Marinette had pulled him up. They stepped carefully as they scooted across the the narrow beam. The rain had made the roof slippery, and one wrong move meant plummeting hundreds of meters down into the courtyard. But, they were making progress—they had almost reached the edge.

“The anti-aircraft barrier will knock us down after a few seconds,” Marinette said as they got closer. “Once we feel it start to pull on the broom, we have to jump.” She looked at Adrien. “You might want to shadow jump ahead of me. You’re more likely to make it than I am, and I might need your help. Once we’re at the wall, we can get through the rest of the barrier without crashing.”

“We can do this!” Adrien declared firmly.

Marinette smiled. They kept sliding across the roof, taking it slow so they wouldn’t fall. The moment they reached the edge, there was a crash behind them as part of the roof caved in. Adrien was closer, and he would have fallen back, had Marinette not pulled him closer to her. They both fell, clinging to the roof.

Adrien managed to swing himself up, kneeling as he pulled Marinette up, holding onto her arms. “Are you okay?” He asked, brushing her soaked bangs out her face.

“Just a scraped knee,” she reported, “but we can’t waste time when we’re so close!”

“You’re not close,” a new voice said. Marinette shuddered as Nathalie climbed up through the hole. Without so much as a breath, she flicked her wand and knocked Marinette’s new broom from her hand. Atropos remained in her hand, the curse unaffected by Nathalie’s magic. She stared at them, a twisted smirk just barely tugging at the emotionless façade as the Gorilla joined them. They were almost completely out of options, and she knew it. “This is the end of the road.”

Adrien looked to Marinette. She was desperately trying to think of a plan, but there really wasn’t much around. Her only real offensive spell was a blast of force, and if that backfired up here, it would mean death. That gave him an idea. Nathalie expected them to give up, to accept their fate quietly, because death was their only other option—and maybe he could use that.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered to Marinette.

She glanced at him. “Of course,” she whispered back.

Adrien helped her stand. “Let us go, Nathalie!” He ordered, putting his foot on the beam. Marinette followed his lead, balancing her foot behind his. “If you don’t, I’ll jump, and I’ll drag Marinette with me!” He felt her grip tighten, and for a moment he thought it was her nerves, but he looked at her face and saw the determination in her eyes. She really did trust him!

Nathalie looked down at her feet. She sort of shrugged. “Under all your forced politeness and chivalrous bullshit, you’re really just a spoiled brat, aren’t you?” She said. Nathalie looked up. The smirk was gone, but nothing had replaced it. “A spoiled little shit that, when push comes to shove, will always throw a tantrum and scream until he gets his way.” She shook her head and sliced the air. “That’s not going to work tonight, Adrien.”

He hissed. “I’m not throwing a tantrum! I’ll kill myself if it means getting away from you!” He furrowed his brows, a smug grin on his face. “What will my father think if you let his only son die when you could have done something to stop it?”

Nathalie took a step forward. Adrien took a step back, his leg now behind Marinette’s. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Nathalie asked. Now she grinned.

She lunged, grabbing the loose fabric of Marinette’s shirt and forcing her foot between their legs. Adrien’s foot was knocked from the beam, and he lost his footing. The only thing that kept him from slipping was Nathalie, who had grabbed his shirt. She tossed Marinette back, where the Gorilla held her arms tight to her side. “ _Marinette!_ ” Adrien shouted, reaching for her. Nathalie grabbed his face with her newly freed hand, digging her nails into his cheeks. “Please don’t hurt her! Gods, Nathalie, _please!_ ”

“I would be more worried about yourself, if I were you.” She advised. She lifted him up and walked until she was at the very edge of the beam. “What you don’t seem to understand is that for sixteen years, your father has made sacrifices. Every one of them has moved him closer to his goal. When one seeks _power,_ ” she explained, “they can hardly afford sentimentality.”

Adrien raised his hands to her wrist, desperately holding onto her. He wasn’t trying to escape, even though his legs were flailing, trying to make contact with some kind of footing. “ _No!_ Nathalie, please! _Don’t do this!_ ” Adrien begged, looking into her eyes, a shiver crawling up his spine when the void looked back.

“You’re a traitor,” Nathalie said. “And your father knows it.”

“No! No, no, _no!_ ” Marinette screamed as she tried to fight her way out of the Gorilla’s grip.

“Something that you need to understand is,” Nathalie explained as she tightened her grip on Adrien’s throat, “is that, when your father has the power he seeks,” she brought him closer to her face as she said, “it won’t matter if you live or die.”

Adrien looked down. Between the height of the castle and the heavy rain, he couldn’t see the ground. He could only see the rain sliding off the tiles. “Nathalie, please, I don’t want to die again!” Adrien begged, not even caring that she now knew that he was bluffing earlier.

She took a small step back. She placed Adrien on the edge of the beam, just barely enough that he could keep his balance, and she took her hands off of him. “Your father still loves you very much,” she said. Adrien took a sharp breath, his eyes locked on hers for a short, tense moment.

Then, Nathalie placed her hand on his chest and pushed him off the roof.

“ _ADRIEN, NO!_ ” Marinette shouted, freeing one arm to reach out for him uselessly. He screamed as he fell back, sliding head first down the roof. The slickness of the tiles catapulted him away from the roof, and he fell into the darkness. Marinette wept, tears mixing with rain. “Spirits, no! No, not my Adrien!” She sobbed.

Nathalie walked back towards them. The Gorilla pushed Marinette into the hole, where she landed on the floor with a thud. She wasted no time in scrambling to her feet and sprinting away. “What are you doing?! After her!” Nathalie commanded.

Marinette wasn’t even concerned with getting away. She wanted to get out to the courtyard, to find Adrien’s body before twenty-four hours passed. She just needed to resurrect him, and then everything would be fine! She got down to the second floor before stopping dead in her tracks.

Adrien had started the fires because he thought they’d slow Nathalie and the Gorilla. Instead, she had used magic to clear her path, and at the same time, caused the fire to spread faster. It had completely engulfed the great hall, the flames burning hot and wildly. She couldn’t get to the first floor anymore. She thought about going back up, but even with the crackling fire, she could hear Nathalie getting closer. There was no way out.

Marinette looked at her hand. Atropos looked back at her. The castle was gone, and with it, the fire. It was just her, alone in a forest. With the scissors, begging for her blood. And, she thought as she opened the scissors and brought them up her arm, following the vein, she would give it in abundance.


End file.
